How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

Chapter 637

He'd always kept a trump card up his sleeve, just in case he could one day use it to keep Elodie under control and squeeze every last bit of value out of her.

But now, Elodie had changed so much, he barely recognized her.

"Dad, what are we supposed to do if Elodie won't budge, no matter what we try?" Reba's mood was foul, and she forced the words out through clenched teeth.

Malcom, for his part, was just as lost.

If things really blew up, there was a lot at stake for him, too.

If the Silverstein family traced everything back to him, what would happen then?

The whole affair would be an embarrassment for the Silversteins, and before they kicked Elodie out, there was no telling if they'd crush the Harcourts first.

"We'll have to play the long game."

Reba narrowed her eyes, thinking hard for a while. "Actually, I've met someone recently who might be very interested in Elodie's situation."

Malcom glanced at her.

Reba finally allowed herself a sly smile. "Dad, maybe it's time we tried a different approach. Grab what we can, while we still can."

The Silverstein Group.

The assistant walked in to report, "Mr. Silverstein, Mr. Nilsson is here."

Jarrod didn't even look up from his paperwork. "Let him in."

When Maurice Nilsson entered, Jarrod was still seated behind his desk, his posture perfectly straight. He wore a pair of rimless glasses perched on the bridge of his nose a habit he'd developed for work-his shirt sleeves rolled up just enough beneath a dark waistcoat, the sharp lines of the vest softening his stern presence with an air of refinement.

Maurice clicked his tongue.

could fool a lot of people, he

drink lately. I figured you were off building relationships-turns out,

glance. "Some of us

been to plenty of

with Elodie, he refused to numb

keep his mind sharp and focus on actually solving

skip today. It's Freya's eighteenth birthday big

his cool gaze lingering on the documents before him as if he was weighing

"What time?"

well

and grabbed his

studied Jarrod's expression. "Shouldn't

face was unreadable as he stepped

throwing a coming-of-age party for their

quite

Maun

looking a little downcast, was telling her friends, "I have a

shot Jarrod a look that all

to say hello, but Jarrod wasn't in

He slipped

onave line

ordered a custom

him down, clinked glasses, and said, "You're off

him a

Did you two... not work things out?

a

a slow sip of his