The Second Life of a Discarded Heiress novel Chapter 471

Quentin stood in the center of his crew, basking in their admiration with a smug grin plastered across his face.

On the other side, Wade’s friends clenched their fists, glaring daggers at Quentin’s group. One of them spat out angrily, “Hell, if our car hadn’t broken down, there’s no way Wade would’ve lost to you.”

Curry Black scoffed, his tone dripping with mockery. “Mr. Aldridge seems to have forgotten just how badly he lost to us last time.”

Quentin shot him a sharp glare, then turned his attention to Wade, whose face was set in stone. Seeing Wade’s grim expression, Quentin let out a cold laugh. “A loss is a loss. No need for excuses—don’t make me lose what little respect I have for you.”

He flashed a wicked grin. “A deal’s a deal. You lost, now get on your knees and call me ‘Daddy.’”

Wade hung his head, fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white. He stared at Quentin with gritted teeth, his voice rough. “Fine. I’ll kneel.”

He’d always been the kind of man who could take a loss.

But as Wade started to kneel, Curry’s expression shifted and he rushed forward to stop him. “Wade, don’t.”

Wade’s eyes were calm but determined. “I made a bet, and I’ll honor it. I’m not a sore loser.”

Watching this, Citrine felt a strange, uncomfortable ache twist in her chest—something she couldn’t quite name.

Just as Wade was about to kneel before Quentin, Citrine’s eyes flickered. She strode forward, her voice clear and even. “Mind if I take a look at your car?”

Wade’s head snapped up. Seeing Citrine, a flash of joy lit up his face, but it vanished just as quickly, replaced by a look of shame. Whatever he’d been about to say died on his lips, and he turned away sharply. “Don’t look at me,” he muttered, his voice tinged with desperation.

He quickly shielded his face with his hands and pushed himself off the ground. In just a few seconds, his world had turned upside down.

God, he’d never imagined his little sister would see him like this—completely humiliated. How was he supposed to face her after this? His image as her big brother was ruined.

Travis and a few others hurried after her. Travis shot Quentin a frosty glare before falling in step with his sister. He didn’t know what she was up to, but whatever it was, he’d back her up.

Citrine crouched down to inspect beneath the car, studying it closely. Then, to everyone’s shock, she opened the door and slid into the driver’s seat.

The car was a wreck—dangerous, barely held together. Seeing her inside, Travis felt his heart leap into his throat, his face going pale. “Citrine, get out of there! It’s not safe!”

At the same time, Wade rushed over, not even bothering to hide his face anymore, and knocked urgently on the window. “Sis, get out! It’s not safe in there!”

Citrine just shot them a reassuring look. “Relax, it’ll be fine,” she said, then turned the key in the ignition.

In an instant, the car roared to life and shot down the track.

Quentin watched, scowling. “What the hell is wrong with that crazy woman? Is she trying to get herself killed?”