How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

Cold sweat poured down Jarrod's back as he bent over, gasping for breath. Warm blood trickled steadily from the wound behind him—he knew the injury was deep, the pain so fierce it felt as if his chest might split open.

Malcom, meanwhile, had been knocked to the ground several times already, nearly vomiting from the force of a kick to his stomach. Still, he scrambled upright, snarling, "Back off! If you come any closer, I'll throw her down right now!"

Jarrod could feel his strength draining away with every heartbeat. He'd been running a high fever for over twenty-four hours and hadn't fully recovered. Now, this wound left his head swimming, the world turning hazy at the edges. But he refused to show any weakness.

Malcom finally tasted a twisted satisfaction at the sight. "Well, well, Mr. Silverstein -never thought I'd see you like this! Consider this payback!" He had come here because he needed something from Jarrod, but that didn't mean he would pass up the chance for revenge.

Jarrod's eyes were icy and remote as he forced himself to stand tall. "Don't hurt her. Whatever you want-I'll give it to you."

Malcom didn't waste time with more threats. He bolted up the stairs, not daring to give Jarrod even a second to regain the upper hand. He knew this man-one slip, and everything could be over.

Jarrod clutched his chest, gulping down air, then forced himself to stagger outside. He needed to make sure Elodie was safe.

From upstairs, Elodie couldn't see what was happening below. She tried to keep her voice steady as she called out, "I'm fine. Don't worry about me-just stay calm, okay?"

She had no idea what a cornered Malcom might do. Her first instinct was to protect Jarrod.

He didn't mention his wound. Drawing a silent, shaky breath, he raised his voice so she could hear: "Don't be afraid, Elodie. Trust me I won't let anything happen

to you."

Malcom had reached the third floor now, his voice shrill and ragged: "I know everything! You destroyed the Harcourt Group! Jarrod, this is what you deserve!"

darker. He'd never intended to reveal the truth-he'd hoped to quietly push

of tires

his car, his face stricken with rage

a hundred million dollars and safe passage out of the country. I'm taking her

himself against the car, eyes locked on Elodie above.

Jarrod glanced sideways at Ivan, giving him a look that conveyed everything and

shadows, vanishing into

to negotiate, you'd better guarantee her safety. Otherwise, you won't

bristled at Ivan's words. That man, who had once needed the Harcourts' support, now dared

seized the

"That's

You've already

Harcourt, maybe you should explain your plan

moving

If he hurried, he could reach the third

any sign of Ivan, but saw nothing. His face twisted in

thundered behind

Elodie's heart froze.

his composure completely. He knew Ivan was strong, and at

straight at Malcom and locking