How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

Elodie Thorne was caught completely off guard.

For a moment, her pupils shrank with shock.

She didn't want to believe it, but those words twisted something sharp and painful in her chest.

"Watts Aldridge! What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Her voice, usually calm and collected, suddenly cut through the night with a fierce edge.

Gone was her polite pretense. The look she gave him was cold-so cold it could wound.

And that look only amused Watts more.

How much did Elodie hate him, to glare at him like that? Was a single sentence enough to push her this far?

He stepped closer, studying every flicker of emotion on her face in the shadows, almost savoring her reaction, as if he wanted to see her break as the truth landed. Word by word, he said, "You shouldn't be surprised. I'm telling you the truth. Why else do you think I kept you here?"

Elodie's clenched fists trembled, but her eyes remained hard, almost vicious.

Watts didn't care for that look, but he didn't let it bother him. He leaned in, bending down to meet her gaze. "Elodie, he's dead. He's gone for good. You need to move on."

For some reason, Watts was even smiling as he said it.

as cheerful as

have been further from how he used to

finally understand why Jarrod Silverstein had described

youth, Watts's mind, his insight, his ruthlessness-even the way

let

smile curled on her lips. "What, were you that afraid of him? Did

well she was jabbing

chances of survival were next to nothing. Whether it was his own feud

you still don't believe me." Watts watched her reddening

pronounced every word clearly: "Have you ever heard of

Elodie frowned.

when that useless Sylvie Fielding was still around she had a pretty close relationship with them. Rumor has it she even had the Quinn heir

of dread

moment, Watts caught the panic in her

do you think

That's what he meant.

clicked for

come here... was all