The Second Life of a Discarded Heiress

At that moment, Jeanette wore a look of smug satisfaction as she caught sight of Herschel.

"Mr. Saunders, happy birthday," she said with a delicate smile, passing the gift Gorman had prepared for her to the attendant collecting presents.

Just as the attendant reached to take it, Herschel's temper suddenly snapped.

"Who told you you could come?" he barked, snatching the gift from Jeanette's hands and hurling it to the floor.

The glass decanter inside shattered instantly, scattering shards across the polished floor.

Startled, Jeanette stumbled back several steps.

Gorman's expression darkened; he immediately stepped in front of Jeanette, shielding her with his body.

He turned to her, his voice low and careful. "Are you alright? Did you get hurt?" Jeanette shook her head, eyes brimming with wounded innocence.

Only after making sure she was unharmed did Gorman relax, though his face remained grim as he turned to Herschel, his tone defensive. "Grandfather, Jeanette is a friend of mine. She brought you a birthday gift out of kindness. How could you treat her like this?"

Being publicly rebuked by his grandson at his own birthday banquet, Herschel's face turned thunderous. His voice rose, echoing through the hall. "You insolent brat! This is my birthday celebration, not some gathering for every stray off the street. Get her out of here! If Citrine sees her, you'll wish you'd never been born." Gorman stood his ground, arguing back, "Grandfather, Jeanette came here just to celebrate your birthday. She's my guest-you can't just throw her out."

Jeanette, feigning vulnerability, piped up in a plaintive voice, "That's right, Mr. Saunders. I came here just for your birthday. Even if you don't like me, you can't just kick me out, can you?"

She had no intention of leaving. She'd worked too hard to cozy up to Gorman, and tonight she needed his status to put Citrine in her place. Walking away now would be a total waste.

Hmph, that old man was nothing. As long as Gorman was on her side, she had nothing to fear.

Lately, Gorman had seen Jeanette act meek and fragile so often that he'd started to believe it was her true nature. Herschel, however, knew better-he saw right through her act.

Tonight was his birthday, and he wasn't about to indulge anyone.

Without another word, Herschel slapped Jeanette hard across the face. His voice was ice-cold. "Get out. This is my birthday. If you so much as upset my granddaughter, you'll be sorry." noveldrama

The blow left Jeanette's ears ringing. She turned her face away, dazed, unable to react for a long moment.

Furious, Gorman put himself between Herschel and Jeanette, his voice ringing with outrage. “Grandfather, you only hate Jeanette because of Citrine Carmichael, don't you?"

His words were bitterly cold. "You're all getting more and more ridiculous. Anyone who walks through the door claiming to be your sister, you just believethem? There haven't been any feads for years, and suddenly you think you've found her? She's a con artist, and you're all being fooled."

"Enough!" Herschel's face twisted with rage as he delivered a stinging slap to Gorman's cheek.

Blood trickled from the corner of Gorman's mouth, but his eyes only grew colder.

What he didn't notice was the look of utter shock on Jeanette's face behind him; she was so pale she forgot about the pain in her cheek. She stammered, "Mr. Gorman, but... isn't your last name Gorman Why are you suddenly a Saunders?"

Gorman's voice was hoarse. "Abroad, I use Mr. Gorman. Here at home, I'm Gorman Saunders."

Jeanette's expression went blank, a surge of dread washing over her.

After all, this was Citrine's brother. Would he really be on her side?

Jeanette wasn't so sure anymore.