How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue novel Chapter 284

Elodie could feel the strength in the hand gripping her wrist—there was a forcefulness beneath Jarrod’s calm, almost teasing voice, a quiet dominance she could not ignore.

She hated it.

Her reaction was even sharper than before. With a sudden jerk, she yanked her wrist free, shaking off the lingering heat of his touch. Not bothering with subtlety, she pulled off her blindfold and met Jarrod’s cool, inscrutable gaze.

“This is how it’s always been between us in public, isn’t it?” Elodie’s words were polite but her eyes betrayed a flicker of annoyance she struggled to hide. “Mr. Silverstein, we have no chemistry. Let’s just drop this game.”

Jarrod’s expression didn’t register a single emotion. Elodie didn’t care. She turned on her heel and walked away, moving toward the edge of the crowd.

As for Jarrod’s question—she almost wanted to laugh. For years, whenever they crossed paths in public, he’d acted as though she didn’t exist: distant, aloof, a stranger in every sense. Now he dared to put the ball in her court? Please.

And anyway, wasn’t that exactly what the contract spelled out? Boundaries, distance, and nothing real.

Jarrod watched her retreat in silence, his face giving nothing away. Then he turned and made his way back to Sylvie.

Watts, who had been keeping an eye on Elodie throughout, noticed both she and Jarrod had separated. He lowered his gaze, deep in thought, then started to cross the room toward her. He still hadn’t asked for her number, and now he wondered if doing so directly might put her on the spot or make her uncomfortable. It wasn’t often he found himself hesitating over something so simple.

His phone vibrated with an urgent call. He glanced at Elodie, who had just taken a seat, her profile lit by the soft glow of the chandelier. His eyes narrowed thoughtfully; he’d take the call first and figure the rest out later.

Across the room, Elodie had barely settled in when Alexander leaned over, voice low. “What did he say to you? Was it about poaching clients?”

Her eyes grew sharp for a moment, but she shook her head. “No. Not a word.”

That figured. Jarrod never explained himself, no matter how deeply he might wound someone; it meant nothing to him, so why would he bother justifying it?