How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue novel Chapter 541

She was the one who’d suggested having a drink in the first place.

But now, just as she was about to share a toast with Jarrod, she was blocked and had no choice but to awkwardly lift her glass. “As long as it makes you happy, Miss Aldridge.”

Patricia swirled her wine, not drinking, a half-smile on her lips as she fixed her gaze on Sylvie. Her mouth said “let’s drink together,” but she made no move to follow through.

So it was just Sylvie, left hanging.

Sylvie saw right through it, but she understood the situation. She braced herself and drained her glass in one go.

She hadn’t expected it to burn so fiercely on the way down, the heat bringing color to her cheeks. She recognized the taste—this was the infamous “Heartbreaker,” a drink notorious for knocking people off their feet.

Without missing a beat, Patricia refilled her glass.

Sylvie hesitated this time.

“What’s wrong? Don’t feel like drinking anymore?” Patricia taunted.

Sylvie pressed her lips together, embarrassed and acutely aware of being put on the spot.

Once, she’d been the one people catered to; never before had she been treated like some party girl, pressured to drink for everyone’s amusement.

Jarrod turned his head toward them, his tone unhurried but firm. “Miss Aldridge, I think that’s enough.”

Patricia batted her lashes at him. “But Ms. Fielding is enjoying herself and being such a good sport. This is just how women bond, Mr. Silverstein. Maybe you should stay out of it. The more you defend her, the less fun I have.”

Sylvie turned, patting Jarrod gently on the arm. “It’s alright, Jarrod. I can handle a few drinks.”

She managed a smile, trying to look braver than she felt.

Jarrod glanced at her but let it be.

Sylvie looked down at the refilled glass, then finished it in one gulp.

Meanwhile, Grady had caught on that Patricia was targeting Sylvie and didn’t look pleased about it. But he also realized that charging over would only make things worse—especially after Esmeralda had gone behind his back and told his father and grandfather about him and Sylvie. Both men had exploded and forbidden him from seeing her again. It’d been giving him a headache for days.

Sylvie had definitely had too much. She was struggling to keep it together and didn’t want to make a scene, so she forced out, “Sorry, Miss Aldridge, I’m not much of a drinker. I think I’ll call it a night.”

Patricia slouched back on the sofa, her gaze cold. “Not much of a drinker, yet you wanted a toast? How boring.” She waved a hand dismissively. “Fine. You’re a guest, after all. The yacht will follow a set course tonight, and everyone’s rooms are ready. Go get some rest.”

Sylvie instinctively glanced at Jarrod.

Patricia snorted. “What’s the matter, forgot how to walk?”

Sylvie’s face grew rigid, her head spinning too much to reply.

Jarrod looked up at her. “Go rest for a bit.”

And with that, Sylvie had no choice but to let someone escort her out of the room.