How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue novel Chapter 133

Elodie barely had time to react. One hand pressed to her waist, she looked up in stunned confusion.

Joseph's lips were split and bleeding, his handsome face darkened with anger.

Across from them, Ivan's eyes flashed coldly, his sharp features twisted in a sneer. Without warning, he strode forward and grabbed Joseph by the collar. "What the hell are you doing with her? Do you have any idea who she is? Or do you just not care?"

Joseph had never been humiliated like this. He responded with a punch of his own.

"Show some respect to me and Ms. Thorne!"

Ivan licked the blood from his own lip and laughed icily, lunging again.

Respect? After what he'd just seen?

Joseph's ears were burning red.

It looked like the two of them were about to come to blows. Elodie, pale, moved quickly between them. "Ivan! Stop it!"

Ivan paused, turning back to look at Elodie with a mocking smirk. "So, what, you're fine with this?"

He curled his lip, clicking his tongue. "You could've just said so. Elodie, you've got some nerve. Guess you don't mind sampling what's right under your nose. Aren't you worried your darling husband and his good buddy might swap notes about you behind closed doors…"

Elodie's face went sheet-white. Her jaw trembled with shock—it was almost impossible to believe Ivan would say something so vile.

Crack!

Joseph landed another punch. "Mr. Harcourt, don't you dare insult her like that."

Ivan, now noticeably hurting, scowled and seemed ready to explode—

But then the wail of police sirens cut through the tension.

_

Sitting in the police station, Elodie's head throbbed. She looked even colder than usual, her expression stony.

Ivan had always been volatile. Maybe, in that moment, he'd simply misunderstood—maybe old habits of brotherly protectiveness had kicked in. But the things he'd said after…

He'd humiliated her, casually, as if it meant nothing.

It left Elodie breathless, and bitterly amused.

After giving her statement, she was told someone needed to come bail her out.

Queenie soon rushed in, eyes red from crying, and threw herself into Ivan's arms. She gently touched his split lip. "What happened? Why were you fighting?"

Ivan draped an arm around her, slipping back into his usual nonchalance. "It's nothing."

Queenie, still shaken, looked around the room and spotted Joseph—also sporting a fresh bruise—and Elodie, sitting stiffly on a bench, her face unreadable.

Her eyes filled with tears again. "Elodie, you're here too? Why didn't you stop your brother? What on earth happened?"

She knew Joseph, but couldn't quite piece things together.

In this crowd, even if people weren't close, it was rare for things to get this ugly.

Elodie looked up, her face blank.

But she had no patience left for Queenie.

Instead, Elodie walked over to Joseph and, lips pressed tight, asked quietly, "Did you call someone?"

Joseph noticed how rattled she was, though she still seemed composed. He cleared his throat. "Yeah. Maurice is on his way."

Elodie nodded, hesitated, then murmured, "I'm sorry."