NovelEnglishChapter 230 Citrine was penniless and on the verge of starving to death.
By dawn the next day, her hunger was so overwhelming her stomach felt hollow, and she simply couldn't bear it any longer. Waiting until the bakery owner was busy with other customers, she slipped a warm roll from the steaming tray when no one was looking.
She acted quickly, but not quickly enough. The heavyset baker spotted her in an instant.
With a furious shout, he snatched up his rolling pin and lumbered after her. Citrine was so weak from hunger, she barely made it a few yards before he caught her by the collar.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtThe baker's face was red with rage as he shook her roughly. "You little thief! Stealing from me, huh? I ought to teach you a lesson." "Filthy beggar, you think you can steal my bread and get away with it? I'll make you regret it!" His fists were as hard as iron, slamming down on her again and again. He didn't hold back. In no time, Citrine's face was battered and bruised. She collapsed on the ground, blood pooling beneath her, but even then, she clung to the roll she'd taken, refusing to let go.
Just as Citrine thought she might die right there on the bakery floor, Manley appeared. He sat calmly in his wheelchair at the end of the alley, nodding to the bodyguard at his side. In a flash, the guard stepped forward and blocked the baker's next blow.
"That's enough. We'll pay for what she took," the bodyguard said, pulling a few crisp bills from his pocket and handing them to the baker.
The baker, seeing how much he was offered, finally relented and stormed back inside, grumbling under his breath.
By now, Citrine was barely conscious.
Manley rolled his chair closer, eyeing the dirty, battered girl with a trace of distaste.
He clicked his tongue. "Little stray, how long have you been starving out here?" Citrine stared up at him, wanting to speak, but as soon as she opened her mouth, blood spilled from her lips. Sensing something was wrong, Manley immediately called over his medical team, who rushed to her side to begin treatment.
Seeing the crowd swarm around her, Citrine's eyes flashed with panic. She tensed like a cornered animal, glaring fiercely at everyone.
She pushed herself backward with trembling hands, inching away from the strangers. Then, with slow, painful effort, she pulled the squashed, filthy roll from inside her coat.
The roll was dirty, misshapen, but Citrine didn't care; in front of everyone, she crammed it desperately into her mouth, chewing rapidly in hopes of filling the aching emptiness inside her. But her throat refused to cooperate. After just a couple of bites, she began to cough up mouthfuls of blood, the soggy bread spilling out with it.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmShe kept trying-stuffing, chewing, choking, and spitting it all back out. No matter what she did, she couldn't swallow a single bite.
Watching her, Manley felt a strange pang in his chest. For the first tin his life, he tried to soften his tone. "Hey, kid. No one's here to take your food. They just want to help with your injuries, alright?"
As he spoke, he nodded to his medical team to step back leaving e oply one hurse nearby. Even so, the wariness in Citrine's eyes didn't fade.
Before Manley could think of what to say next, Citrine suddenly fainted.
When she woke again, she was lying in a clean room with an IV in her arm.
Her eyes darted around in alarm, but when she saw her wounds weren neatly bandaged, her panic eased a little. At least, for now, she was safe.
Not long after, the door swung open and a boy stepped inside. It was Travis Carmichael.
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