How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

Chapter 160

Only Elodie seemed oblivious to how these things worked.

Jarrod set his teacup down with casual indifference. "You can't put a price on happiness and love. Raise it."

Sylvie paused for a split second, then her lips curled into a smile, her eyes soft and glowing with sweetness. She raised her paddle again, chin tilted ever so slightly. "Fifty million."

Ever since Elodie had joined the bidding, her eyes had been glued to Jarrod's table. She'd seen with her own eyes that Sylvie hadn't planned to continue until Jarrod gave her every ounce of confidence. No matter how high the price, he would back her up.

In that instant, the color drained from Elodie's face. For the first time, she felt a suffocating pressure she couldn't put into words. Her heart clenched tight, aching and numb all at once.

Up ahead, Maurice and the others watched the whole scene unfold with keen interest, glancing at Elodie with looks that needed no translation. Their eyes seemed to mock her, silently declaring her defeat and the absurdity of her challenge.

Was Elodie even qualified to compete with Sylvie?

Grady felt a conflicting mix of emotions. He glanced at Sylvie, then leaned in to whisper to Maurice, "Mr. Silverstein treats Ms. Fielding awfully well... Are they really planning to get married?"

throwing a sidelong glance at Elodie, who looked utterly lost. "I think so," he replied

was out of the picture, it was only

pang in his chest. He knew,

felt. She

shook her head. "It's not that. That ring is an

hand, she blurted, "Raise your paddle! Go all in! I've got over ten million in my account-we can win

Elodie only shook her head, resigned.

to Jarrod. No matter how high she bid, Jarrod would always raise the stakes for Sylvie-he'd push it to a level Elodie

It was pointless.

were red with frustration. "Damn it! What is Jarrod playing at? Does he even know that

went silent

He knew.

it. She'd even asked him for help, shown him a

And now...

precisely because Jarrod knew that Elodie felt the cruel sting of irony. He understood everything—and still, for Sylvie, he dug a chunk of flesh