The Second Life of a Discarded Heiress novel Chapter 79

Alicia's face was already streaked with tears; in this moment, she let go of the last shreds of her pride.

"Citrine, I regret everything," she choked out.

Her voice echoed across the room as she called out to Citrine.

Citrine hesitated, taken aback. She knew exactly how proud Alicia was—and just how hard it must have been for her to say those words.

But what did it matter to her now?

Alicia had been the one to betray her first.

With a quiet, almost mocking laugh, Citrine replied, "Too bad there's no such thing as a second chance in this world."

She paused, then added, "Everyone has to live with the consequences of their choices. I'll leave you with that."

Alicia faltered. Her thoughts tumbled back to that time—years ago—when she'd lied for Jeanette, and Citrine, by terrible coincidence, had just learned that she'd lost all hearing in her left ear. Citrine had locked herself away for days, refusing to see anyone. The bright, cheerful girl she'd once been had rarely smiled since.

Alicia had gone to her then, asking, "Do you regret it? If you hadn't saved me, you wouldn't have lost your hearing in that ear."

By then, Citrine had already started shutting her out. She'd only given a flat, distant reply: "Everyone has to live with the consequences of their choices."

Now, Alicia heard those words thrown back at her.

A bitter ache welled up in her chest. Months of shame and guilt finally broke her down; she collapsed to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably.

"I'm sorry, Citrine. I shouldn't have lied."

"If you hadn't risked yourself to save me, your ear would never have been hurt. It's my fault. I ruined everything."

She'd given her jacket to Alicia, so all she wore was a white, knee-length sundress, exposing her slender, graceful legs.

In the darkness, her fair skin seemed to glow with a silvery sheen under the moonlight, her slim arms bare and elegant, beautiful in a way that drew the eye.

Sebastian arrived just in time to witness the scene: the girl's delicate waist, the smooth line of her back, the butterfly-shaped contours of her shoulder blades—she looked like a living work of art.

Flustered, Sebastian quickly averted his gaze.

It was only as he stepped up beside her—on her left—that he noticed the prominent black hearing aid. His mind flashed back to the conversation he'd just overheard between Citrine and the other girl.

He'd actually come over when he heard the commotion, but by the time he arrived, Citrine had already dealt with the two men. He'd caught the tail end of her exchange with Alicia.

Remembering the words they'd exchanged, a strange, unreadable look flickered in Sebastian's eyes.