The Second Life of a Discarded Heiress novel Chapter 232

Ever since returning from Elbert’s birthday celebration, she’d been in this state for days.

At first, Raymond simply assumed she was in a bad mood, and planned to check in when the moment felt right.

That evening, after work, he came home intending to talk to his daughter, only for the housekeeper to inform him she was in the bath.

Raymond didn’t think much of it and settled downstairs to wait.

But two hours passed, and Citrine still hadn’t come out. A creeping sense of unease finally took hold.

Surely nothing could have happened in all that time.

Raymond’s nerves were frayed. His expression darkened as he rushed upstairs. He knocked on the bathroom door, his voice taut with anxiety. “Citrine? Are you alright in there?”

He called her name again and again. No answer.

Panic rising, Raymond slammed his shoulder into the door and burst inside—only to be met with a nightmare.

The water in the tub was stained crimson. Citrine lay motionless, her eyes closed, one hand draped limply over the edge as blood dripped steadily to the floor.

Raymond didn’t hesitate for a second. He lifted her out of the tub, heart pounding in terror.

Her limbs were icy cold. The pain that stabbed through Raymond was almost physical.

Citrine’s condition was critical. At the hospital, she was rushed straight into emergency surgery.

He strode over, hauled Manley out of his wheelchair, and threw him to the ground, kicking him hard.

“She’s been a wreck ever since she got back from seeing you! Maybe you should be the one answering questions—what did you do to her?” Raymond’s voice was raw, his eyes wild with grief and rage.

Manley was momentarily stunned, too shocked to fight back, taking blow after blow before finally stammering, “All I did was let her meet with Phelps that day. I never thought—”

Weston stood nearby, jaw clenched, watching the red glow of the operating room sign. Silently, he prayed for his granddaughter to pull through.

Seeing his sons brawling like children, his patience snapped. He strode over and kicked each of them, hard. “Enough! Both of you. Citrine’s still in there—if you want to kill each other, wait until she’s safe.”

Salome, eyes rimmed red, looked between her brothers and pleaded, “He’s right. Right now, what matters is that Citrine comes out of there alive.”