The Second Life of a Discarded Heiress novel Chapter 339

For the next several days, the entire team woke to grueling drills that ran from dawn till dusk, leaving barely a moment for anything but eating and sleeping. The relentless pace allowed no room to breathe.

Just as the group finally began to adjust to Citrine’s punishing regimen, she upped the ante again, piling on even more.

At the moment, they were crawling through a muddy swamp. Everyone strained forward, muscles burning, faces twisted in agony as they dragged themselves through the muck.

Citrine stood at the edge of the pit, arms folded, her gaze icy and unyielding. “Not fast enough,” she barked. “Move! Pick it up!”

When Hastings crawled past her, Citrine didn’t hesitate—she swung her boot and landed a sharp kick right to his backside.

She sneered, her voice dripping with contempt. “What’s wrong? Didn’t get breakfast? This is all you’ve got?”

Since the day Hastings joined the Vermillion Vanguard, he’d always been the standout—the one the instructors praised, the one everyone expected to lead. Not once had anyone chewed him out, let alone kicked his ass in front of the whole squad.

Now, face down in the mud, Hastings glared at Citrine, humiliated. “Just wait,” he muttered through clenched teeth. “When this is over, I swear I’ll kill you.”

What an idiot—still all talk, Citrine thought, and let out a careless laugh. Then, without warning, she pressed her boot down on his face, grinding it in for good measure. “I’ll be waiting.”

A little arrogance wouldn’t hurt to wear off.

From then on, Citrine seemed to have it out for Hastings. She picked apart everything he did, her words cutting and sharp, and sometimes her critiques turned physical—shoving him, tripping him, even pinning his face into the ground with her heel.

Everyone noticed she was targeting Hastings, and they all assumed he must hate her with a burning passion.

But only Hastings knew the truth. Instead of hating her, he was furious with himself. Somehow, despite all her deliberate humiliation, he felt an inexplicable thrill every time she singled him out. Try as he might, he couldn’t muster any real resentment.

Pathetic, he scolded himself. Absolutely pathetic.