The Second Life of a Discarded Heiress novel Chapter 338

“She’s so fast! I didn’t even see her move—next thing I know, she already hit Mr. Cooper.”

“It’s not just her speed. Didn’t you notice she kept faking out Hastings with all those feints?”

“This girl is way too sly.”

…

They grumbled, but everyone knew Citrine had won this round.

“Fine, call it luck. Next up—shooting. Leo, you’ve got the best scores. You’re up against her.”

Leo stepped forward and led Citrine to the shooting range.

He glanced at her, feeling a bit like a bully for going up against someone so slight. Just before the round began, he hesitated and said, “Ladies first?”

“No need,” Citrine replied coolly.

Leo decided not to push it. He raised his pistol, took aim, and fired three shots in a row. All three punched through the dead center of the target.

A chorus of gasps erupted.

“Perfect scores—ten rings. That’s insane!”

“Leo, you’re making us proud!”

Hastings shot Citrine a smug smile. “See that? Leo’s already won.”

God, she hated that look. Just seeing his face annoyed her.

Citrine impatiently shoved Hastings aside. “Move. Watch and learn.”

Someone behind Hastings stepped forward, looking at Citrine with a smirk. “Hey, Instructor Carmichael, have you even handled a gun before?”

He snickered. “Can you even assemble it? Want us to show you how it’s done?”

Citrine didn’t spare him a glance. She let out a cold laugh, then snapped the handgun together with practiced ease.

She glanced over her shoulder to check the target, spun around, and—one-handed—fired three shots behind her in rapid succession.

By now, the team members were starting to question their own abilities.

Citrine didn’t miss a beat. “What’s next?”

Before she could move on, Hastings grabbed her arm.

“That’s enough,” he said quietly. “We lost.”

Citrine smirked and turned a frosty gaze on the one who’d spoken up earlier. “You—the one who wanted a male instructor. See now? Women aren’t necessarily inferior to men. Sometimes, a so-called ‘useless’ man can be crushed beneath a woman’s heel.”

Her voice went cold. “Don’t let me hear that kind of talk again.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The guy ducked his head, shamefaced.

After that day, no one dared challenge Citrine’s authority. For the next few days, her orders were followed without question.

No one saw the eighteen-year-old girl in front of them as just another kid anymore.

Behind her back, they’d already started calling her the “devil instructor.”