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.

He looked as cheerful as ever.

But it couldn't have been further from how he used to be.

Only now did Elodie finally understand why Jarrod Silverstein had described Watts the way he had.noveldrama

Despite his youth, Watts's mind, his insight, his ruthlessness-even the way he concealed it all-were chilling.

He never let anything slip.

A bitter smile curled on her lips. "What, were you that afraid of him? Did you want him dead that badly?"

Watts knew perfectly well she was jabbing at his sore spot.

But he didn't care anymore. Jarrod's chances of survival were next to nothing. Whether it was his own feud or Patricia Aldridge's vendetta, it was all settled now.

"Looks like you still don't believe me." Watts watched her reddening eyes with a touch of pity.

He pronounced every word clearly: "Have you ever heard of the Quinn family?"

Elodie frowned.

Watts's lips curled. "The same group who ambushed you-Italy's most infamous crime family. Back 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 eating out of her hand."

A wave of dread swept through Elodie.

The next moment, Watts caught the panic in her eyes and said bluntly, "Sylvie got

herself killed. Who do you think her lovesick admirer would blame?"

That's what he meant.

Everything suddenly clicked for Elodie.

The reason Quinn had come here... was all because of-

"I'd advise you not to get your hopes up. The only reason they made it through at all was thanks to your dear Silverstein family's eldest son. He did plenty to help them along." Watts had never liked Sprague Silverstein, but he couldn't deny Sprague was ruthless enough to stop at nothing.

He played for keeps, consequences be damned.

In the world of the elite, there was no such thing as family.

When it came to absolute interests, even your own blood was just a stepping- stone.

Testing human nature was a game rigged to fail.

Only now did Elodie realize how hard it was to breathe.

The onslaught of information left her reeling, trapped in a nightmare she couldn't wake from.

She'd met Quinn before—she still remembered the way his wealth and arrogance seemed out of place at the time. Now, suddenly, it all made sense.

But to believe that Jarrod was truly dead?

She couldn't accept it.

Elodie felt the blood in her veins turn to ice. She fixed Watts with a cold, hard stare. "Dead or alive, I'll find out for myself. I don't need you standing herè spouting poison."