How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

Chapter 10

When Jarrod returned, his strikingly handsome face was cold as marble. Sylvie immediately guessed things hadn't gone well with Elodie he didn't bother hiding his impatience toward her.

Octavia, however, seemed distracted. "Did she say anything to you, big brother? Like... badmouthing me or something?"

Jarrod looked up at her. "What did you do to make her upset?"

"Nothing!" Octavia muttered, clutching her juice like a child. "I'm not that bored, you know."

Joseph strolled in, glancing at Jarrod. He chose not to mention what he'd just witnessed outside-no need to make Sylvie uncomfortable. After all, what woman would enjoy seeing another throw herself at her man? That sort of thing was never easy to comment on.

Maurice snorted. "Why are you grilling your sister? If you ask me, Elodie's the one out of line. Chasing Jarrod all the way here-making a scene when she has no chance at all."

Joseph lit a cigarette. "Looking at how things are, even if you filed for divorce, she'd still cling to you. Jarrod, you'd better brace yourself."

Jarrod said nothing, his expression unreadable as he poured Sylvie a cup of tea.

Sylvie just smiled politely, offering neither comment nor opinion. It was clear she considered this little incident beneath her notice.

Octavia watched the scene unfold, a flicker of guilt crossing her mind.

But then again, even if she hadn't been involved, Elodie's desperate behavior

likely she'd show up

bother

sort of woman who

if the

chattering away to Sylvie about life at Verdant

with her specialist for next Monday to discuss

Alexander would be attending the invitational drone competition that afternoon. Normally, Esmeralda—as a major shareholder—would attend

trust in the wrong people and wasted

submitted her resignation. There were still handovers to make, but she already knew who in

are you really leaving?" The assistant

"Yes, I am."

Elodie; beneath her cool exterior, she was genuinely good-hearted. "You've

hesitated. "I did.

whether her husband had accompanied her. Even if

assistant manager changed the subject. "Aren't you usually bringing your husband lunch at noon? Not

wife-everyone in PR knew it. She'd mentioned her husband had a sensitive stomach and was picky about food, so she always cooked every meal herself, bringing lunch for him during her break without

no one had ever

a past life to land

eyes flickered as she

again,

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