Chapter 462

At that moment, Citrine didn't pick up on the true meaning behind Hilda's question; she simply assumed her mother was making casual conversation.

She shook her head. "No, the Carmichaels have a housekeeper. They don't need me to help out."

Hilda looked unconvinced, suspecting her daughter might be covering for the Carmichaels. Still, she chose not to press further.

Instead, Hilda made a mental note to visit the Carmichael family herself when she had the time.

Having Hilda pitch in really sped things up.

In the end, Citrine cooked six dishes and a soup, and the two of them sat down to eat together.

"Try some," Citrine said, handing Hilda a fork.

The meal looked delicious, but it was the aroma that made it irresistible.

Hilda's stomach had been growling for ages. She wasted no time spearing a piece of food and popping it into her mouth.

It was delicious-so much better than she had expected. Her eyes went wide in delight as she turned to Citrine. "This is amazing! Even better than Nathalie's cooking at home."

"I'm glad you like it," Citrine replied, a hint of satisfaction softening her features.

Seeing the contented look on Hilda's face, Citrine felt a quiet sense of accomplishment.

Without a word, she nudged a few more dishes toward her mother.

Citrine herself didn't have much of an appetite-she never had—and after just one bowl of rice, she was already full. Hilda, on the other hand, happily polished off most of what remained on the table.

Only when she was completely satisfied did Hilda finally head downstairs, humming to herself.

A few days later, Hilda made a spontaneous visit to the Carmichael Group offices.

Raymond was stunned when the receptionist informed him that President Saunders of C. Corp had arrived.

There had never been any collaboration between the Carmichael Group and C. Corp. What on earth was President Saunders doing here?

Baffled but maintaining his composure, Raymond immediately instructed his assistant to bring her up.

It had been several weeks since they last saw each other, and the woman's gaze seemed even sharper than before.

Raymond couldn't shake the nagging feeling that she harbored some inexplicable hostility toward him.

Not that he cared much for her, either.

Without so much as a glance in her direction, Raymond said coolly,

"President Saunders, you must be extremely busy. What brings you to the Carmichael Group? Unless I'm mistaken, our companies don't have any business together."

Hilda slipped off her sunglasses, settled herself comfortably on the sofa in Raymond's office, and crossed her legs with an air of

nonchalance. "You're right. This isn't a business call-I'm not here to talk

shop." isn't

Raymond rose from behind his desk and took a seat across from her, his lips curling into a thin, almost mocking smile. "A personal matter? If I recall correctly, this is only our second meeting. What kind of

personal business could we possibly have?"

Hilda met his gaze and spoke calmly. "Citrine."

Raymond stiffened, the smile fading from his lips. "Why are you bringing up my daughter, President Saunders?"

Hilda didn't bother with pleasantries. "Raymond, Citrine is my daughter, too."

His face registered total shock, as if he'd just misheard her. "What did you say?"

Hilda explained, her voice steady. "Years ago, I was on a business trip in Havencrest. I had a one-night stand with a man at a hotel, and I got pregnant. Citrine is that child."

She spoke without a hint of embarrassment-affairs like that had never bothered her, and she saw no reason to be ashamed.

"That man was me?" Raymond's mind flashed back nearly twenty years. He remembered drinking too much that night, and a woman-clearly drugged-had been brought to his suite in the Carmichael Group's hotel.

Hilda nodded. "That's right. It happened at one of your hotels."

Raymond narrowed his eyes at her. "And why should I believe you?"

Hilda scoffed. "Believe what you want. I didn't come here for your approval. I

came to tell you I'm Citrine's birth mother-and I will get her back."