The Second Life of a Discarded Heiress novel Chapter 436

In that moment, Hilda’s emotions were a tangled mess—she was proud of her daughter’s brilliance, but at the same time, a gnawing fear crept in: what if Citrine no longer needed her at all?

“Citrine.” Hilda hesitated for a second, but in the end, she called out to her daughter.

Both Citrine and Raymond stopped at the sound of her voice.

Raymond recognized Hilda immediately—she was the woman who had spoken up for Citrine at the party. He nodded to her politely. “Thank you for standing up for my daughter earlier.”

“It was nothing,” Hilda replied offhandedly, though her eyes remained fixed on Citrine with an intensity she couldn’t hide.

Citrine only looked back at her, silent.

A pang of discomfort twisted in Hilda’s chest. She pressed her lips together, struggling to find the right words. There was so much she wanted to say, yet nothing came out but a quiet confession of regret: “Citrine, I’m sorry.” Her voice trembled. If only she’d protected her better—if only Citrine hadn’t been lost to her for all those years.

Citrine was about to respond when she noticed the dark circles under Hilda’s eyes, the weariness etched across her face. It looked like she hadn’t slept properly in ages.

Was it because of her?

Did Hilda really care that much?

Something inside Citrine wavered.

She pressed her lips together, determined not to let herself go soft, but her tone softened anyway. “You don’t need to apologize. Like I said, please don’t come looking for me again.”

Hilda’s face turned pale. For a moment, disappointment flickered in her eyes, but she forced herself to smile—though the expression looked more like she was about to cry. “Alright. I’ll do as you say.”

Citrine had already done her homework on Hilda: a formidable businesswoman, the head of the Saunders family, a woman who commanded respect wherever she went.

Yet now, seeing her humbled and hesitant, Citrine felt a sudden surge of irritation. Hilda wasn’t supposed to be like this—she should be radiant, commanding, untouchable. She shouldn’t have to watch for Citrine’s every reaction.

Citrine took the phone, typed in her contact information, and handed it back.

Hilda accepted the phone with both hands, her face alight with delight.

Citrine didn’t understand why this made her so happy, but seeing Hilda’s joy brought an involuntary smile to her own lips.

Having finally gotten her daughter’s number, Hilda was over the moon. The day’s unexpected happiness had left her a little dizzy, and she didn’t dare risk annoying Citrine by lingering any longer—especially since it really was getting late. Reluctantly, she said her goodbyes and left.

She never once glanced at Raymond, as if he didn’t even exist.

Raymond, for his part, had just started to warm up to Hilda because of Citrine’s attitude. But after seeing how intensely interested Hilda was in his daughter, a sharp sense of unease crept in. His expression grew dark.

Once Hilda had gone, he turned to Citrine. “Citrine, how do you know President Saunders?”