The Second Life of a Discarded Heiress novel Chapter 591

At one in the morning, only a few windows glowed in the research center’s vast building.

Once outside, the front entrance was deserted—completely still.

Citrine fished her car keys from her pocket, ready to head for the underground garage, when a voice called her name from behind.

She pressed her lips together, slipped the keys back into her pocket, and turned, the smile in her eyes fading as she faced the interruption.

She stood quietly, sizing up Theo, saying nothing.

Theo, on the other hand, was a bundle of nerves. After waiting the entire day, his patience had worn thin.

He glared at Citrine, jaw clenched in frustration. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting? It’s been all day!”

Citrine widened her eyes, feigning innocence, showing not the slightest trace of guilt.

“I told you to get lost,” she replied, her tone sharp and openly impatient.

Theo seethed, swallowing his anger since he had no way to vent it.

He forced his temper down and tried again, voice strained but civil. “Was it you who started those rumors about my family?”

Citrine met his gaze, lifting her eyes with a flicker of indifference. Instead of answering, she countered, “Is that seriously why you came here?”

Before Theo could reply, Citrine gave a short, cold laugh. “Yes, I leaked the story. Yes, I pushed it. I did everyone a favor. The Glenwood Group deserves to be exposed for what you are—peddling fake medication, lying to patients, costing them precious time, treating lives like they’re worthless. You’ve done so much harm, you should be held accountable.”

Theo scoffed. “Citrine Carmichael, don’t pretend you’re some kind of saint. Show me a business that’s truly clean—I don’t believe for a second that your precious CICI Group or your research center is spotless.”

As a Glenwood, Theo knew full well what the family business had done. This was simply how the world worked—ruthless, profit-driven, and, as far as he was concerned, nothing out of the ordinary.

Typical Glenwood blood—cold, calculating, and utterly repulsive.