The Second Life of a Discarded Heiress novel Chapter 262

She tossed out a parting remark and disappeared into the kitchen.

Now, only the two brothers remained in the living room.

Both of them looked a little uneasy.

Raymond cleared his throat and, trying to appear casual, sat down exactly where Citrine had been moments before.

His fingers tapped restlessly against the leather cushion. After a pause, he took the initiative and said, “Citrine really likes you.”

At the mention of Citrine, a rare spark lit up in Manley’s usually indifferent eyes.

“Of course she does. I’m her Uncle Manley,” he replied with a proud nod, his tone full of self-satisfaction.

Raymond was momentarily taken aback by his brother’s smugness. Every time he saw Manley, he always thought him cold and distant, never imagining he’d have this softer side.

“You seem pretty fond of Citrine yourself,” Raymond observed, noticing just how much more affection Manley showed Citrine than even his own son.

“Obviously,” Manley shot back without hesitation. He glanced at Raymond and added, “You may be her dad, but if you ever treat Citrine badly, don’t blame me for stepping in and taking her off your hands.”

Raymond’s mood, which had been steady until now, immediately soured at the threat. His face darkened.

“Don’t even think about it. Citrine is my daughter. Keep your hands off her,” he warned coldly.

Manley snorted. “Then you’d better always do right by her.”

The conversation barely got off the ground before it was already bristling with tension. Sparks seemed to fly in the silence as the brothers glared at each other, neither willing to back down nor speak further.

He spotted Travis out of the corner of his eye but didn’t bother looking up.

Travis could only laugh in disbelief. He unzipped the bag of fruit he’d brought, picked out the biggest apple, and took a huge, defiant bite right in Manley’s line of sight.

Chewing furiously, he glared at his father. “Hey, Manley, am I even your real son? I’ve just spent all day at school, used my own pocket money to buy you a ton of fruit, and you don’t even say hello.”

Only then did Manley finally lift his gaze. “Travis, are you itching for trouble, yelling at me like that?”

One withering look from Manley was enough to make Travis fall silent.

Manley glanced from his exasperating son to the mountain of fruit piling up in the corner and felt a headache coming on. He rubbed his temples, his voice edged with irritation. “If I’m not mistaken, this is the eighteenth bag of fruit you’ve brought me this month. Are you trying to stuff me to death so you can inherit my estate?”

Travis just shrugged, completely unbothered. “Well, what do you expect? With the pocket change you give me, all I can afford is fruit.”