How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

Chapter 133 Elodie barely had tto react. One hand pressed to her waist, she looked up in stunned confusion.

Joseph's lips were split and bleeding, his handsface 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 srespect toand 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 cto 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 snerve. 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 cbail 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." No matter what, this was partly her fault. Ivan had only stepped in because of her.

Even if things were tense between her and Ivan lately, she couldn't shake a lifetof habit. Seeing her in trouble, Ivan had acted on instinct, not malice. Now, though, things were painfully awkward.

Joseph met her gaze, then shook his head. "It's not your fault." He figured it was only natural for Ivan, as her brother, to be overly sensitive.

Ivan, now finished soothing Queenie, approached, hands in his pockets, voice rough with apology. "Mr. Delacroix, this was all a misunderstanding. Hope it's not a big deal. Let's grab dinner sometime-I owe you a proper apology." Joseph wasn't one to hold grudges. In business, it was always wise to leave things on good terms. "As long as it's cleared up, that's fine. Mr. Harcourt just misunderstood. Ms. Thorne and I... barely know each other." He didn't want Elodie dragged into any more trouble.

Ivan shot Elodie a sly, almost mocking glance. "That's right. Elodie's loyal to her husband to the core. She'd probably help serve drinks to his mistress after a long night. Guess I was worried for nothing." The words stung-an open insult, a jab at Elodie's pride.

Elodie's lips went bloodless. But she was too exhausted to argue.

Joseph frowned, about to protest, but found himself at a loss for words.

He, and everyone else, had seen how much Elodie had put up with over the years, how much she'd tolerated from Jarrod.

Maurice had even called her "pathetic" more than once.

Queenie, oblivious to the details, blurted out, "Wait, what do you mean? Elodie, is your husband seeing someone else?" She shot Elodie a look of pity and, unable to help herself, added, "He doesn't even bother to hide it? He must not care about you at all. No wonder you never had kids... was that his choice?" Elodie froze, unsure how to respond.

But at least she could listen to these words now, calmly.

It was the truth, after all. And now that the divorce was done, she no longer cared to explain.

Still...

She absently touched her stomach.

Everyone questioned why, after years of marriage, she'd never had a child.

It was a constant reminder a fear she could never quite shake-that the O medications might have robbed her of the chance for motherhood.

Queenie turned back to Ivan, pouting. "Ivan, you're going to love onlyyour whole life, right? You'll stay faithful when we're married, won't you? Promise me!"

Ivan glanced sideways at Elodie, who was lost in thought, and gave a lazy grin. "Of course. You're not like En anyone else." Elodie didn't care how sweet Ivan and Queenie wanted to act.

Their lives were their own. All she wanted was to get this mess behind her.

She looked up, about to ask a question- But before she could speak, a car pulled up outside.

A voice called from the hallway: "Mr. Silverstein, sorry to drag you out for this mess." Elodie turned, surprised.

Two figures entered—a tall man and a petite woman, an odd but striking pair.

Sylvie spotted Elodie and frowned.

Jarrod's dark eyes swept the room and paused-just for a moment-on Elodie.