The Second Life of a Discarded Heiress

The night air was cool, and the garden was unusually quiet. The only sound was the gentle rustle of leaves and flowers in the breeze—a soothing, comforting hush that seemed to settle the heart.

Citrine allowed herself a small smile.

Vester, despite being half Northriver by blood, had always loathed that side of his heritage-thanks in no small part to his mother. He had little patience for Northriver people in general. Yet, for reasons he couldn't quite name, he found himself unable to muster any dislike toward Citrine, this young Northriver woman before him.

Unable to make sense of it, he chalked it up to admiration. After all, Citrine was the only Northriver businesswoman he'd encountered who had built an empire of such scale.

Citrine hadn't explicitly told Vester that she wouldn't work with Darius Archer, but her attitude spoke volumes.

It was clear she had no intention of siding with that old vulture.

Vester looked at her, a smile curling on his lips. "Ms. Carmichael, you should give it some serious thought. Partnering with me is far more reliable than working with that fossil."

Citrine could tell from Vester's probing that relations between him and Archer were downright hostile. Still, she couldn't afford to trust him blindly—not until she figured out whether he'd had a hand in the Mirage Cay affair.

She didn't give him an answer right away. Her tone remained cool and even. "If we're talking partnership, then both sides need something to bring to the table. My leverage is my arms network, and as far as I know, Mr. Vester, that's exactly what you need."

She paused, her gaze lifting to meet his, a glimmer of mischief in her eyes. Shaking her head, she continued, "So tell me, Mr. Vester-what are you offering?"

Vester laughed, a sharp, genuine bark.

Business was business, he thought-it was always about the money. People came together for profit, and in the end, profit would tear them apart.

"Ms. Carmichael, from what I understand, your CICI Group is still a step behind us

in chip research," he said, certain he'd found her weakness.

He pressed on, "As luck would have it, my own company has specialized in that exact field for years. If you're interested, we could sign a ten-year contract-my firm will supply CICI Group with chips, free of charge. Profits split fifty-fifty."

He was sure this would be impossible to refuse. If he were in Citrine's shoes, he'd accept in a heartbeat.

"It does sound tempting. If you'd made that offer back when I first started out, I might have jumped at it."

But now? Citrine only shook her

head and flashed him an honest smile. "Mr. Vester, my company may not have made any public

announcements, but I'll let yo

on

a secret. We've already started using our own in-house chips. They're top of the line-you can see the results yourself in our latest range of electronics. Sales numbers don't lie."

For the first time, Vester found himself at a loss—and, to his dismay,

outmaneuvered by a woman half his age. The confident smile he'd forced onto his lips faltered, then faded entirely.

He'd done his homework on CICI

Group. Their latest line of electronics had sold far better than any previous release, surpassing his ownnoveldrama

company's numbers within "vious

of

launch. He'd assumed their success was due to an aggressive marketing campaign.

But hearing Citrine say it out loud, something clicked. Pulling out his phone, he navigated to the product page for CICI Group's newest device and read the specs closely. There it was, plain as day-first-generation proprietary chip.

Vester fell silent, his expression darkening with the realization.