How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue novel Chapter 196

Naylor lingered at the doorway, peering inside.

He'd come by to discuss an approval with Mr. Patrick, but he hadn't expected to stumble upon this scene.

Truthfully, he just couldn't wrap his head around it.

Elodie's credentials didn't hold a candle to Sylvie's—after all, Sylvie had a doctorate from one of the world's top universities. How could Elodie be so bold as to come here and try to veto Sylvie's input right in front of Mr. Patrick?

If only Elodie could approach things objectively—if she could just acknowledge Sylvie's abilities—he might have had a little more respect for her.

But no. She was acting like a jealous girl, caught up in petty drama over a man, letting her emotions cloud her judgment.

And the kicker? Jarrod was very much Sylvie's boyfriend.

Elodie had failed to win him over, yet now she was targeting his actual girlfriend.

The office door swung open.

Elodie and Alexander stepped out one after the other, nearly colliding with Naylor.

Alexander slipped on his practiced professional smile. "Mr. Whitaker, here to see Mr. Patrick?"

As Elodie moved to pass, Naylor immediately shifted aside, putting some distance between them, as if he was afraid she might so much as brush his sleeve. "Yes, that's right. I'll head in, then."

"Go ahead, Mr. Whitaker. Don't let us keep you," Alexander replied smoothly.

Elodie noticed Naylor's little sidestep.

She cast him a calm, indifferent glance and didn't take it to heart.

Jarrod wasn't stupid; he could clearly see where she and Alexander stood when it came to Sylvie. He didn't bother wasting time trying to talk things through with them—he went straight to Mr. Patrick.

He was determined to clear the way for Sylvie.

Of course, if Mr. Patrick wanted to pull strings and bring in his own people, they'd have to weigh their options.

Fortunately, their R&D project was funded independently, so they didn't have to worry about outside interference.

—

Back at VistaLink Technologies, Elodie's thoughts turned to her house. She'd already put it on the market.

The place was top-of-the-line in every way—location, amenities, everything. It would sell itself.

The Silverstein Group.

Keith brought the finalized reports to Jarrod's office.

Jarrod had just finished a call with Mr. Patrick and was calmly signing off on some paperwork.

Keith laid the files on his desk and hesitated for a moment before saying, "Mr. Silverstein, Ms. Thorne is asking you to clear out your personal items from the house. She said if you don't come soon, she'll handle it herself."

Jarrod looked up from the documents. "Is that all?"

"That's all," Keith replied.

Jarrod closed his pen with unhurried precision. "Alright. Tell her I'll stop by in the next few days."

Keith couldn't quite figure it out and ventured, "Should I go take care of it for you?"

"No need. She won't throw anything out." Jarrod checked his watch, his tone cool and assured.

His calm demeanor made it clear he knew Elodie well—and trusted her.

Keith thought it over and had to agree. Elodie might talk tough, but it was obvious how much she used to care about Mr. Silverstein. That much, at least, hadn't escaped him.