Jarrod was a cautious man. If the divorce paperwork wasn’t finalized, he’d never let the news slip-

Because Jarrod simply wouldn’t allow Sylvie to leave anyone with ammunition against her before she was securely in her new role.

When you truly love someone, you think of everything for them.

Ivan regarded him with a sly, teasing grin. “Mr. Silverstein, when the time comes, you’d better invite me to your wedding.”

Jarrod’s gaze lifted, but his expression barely changed.

Maurice chuckled, making sure the banter didn’t die. “Absolutely. Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Elodie stood up.

She didn’t want to watch this picture-perfect camaraderie any longer.

Esmeralda rose to follow her.

Elodie checked her watch; the dinner had about half an hour left.

That was all the time she had left to find Fergus.

“Esme, I’ll check with the guest list at the front desk. Could you look around the other side of the hall?”

“Sure thing,” Esmeralda replied.

Elodie approached the event staff, politely asking if they could tell her whether a guest named Fergus was in attendance tonight. The staff, equally polite, declined her request.

They said the guest list was confidential.

Elodie understood they were in a difficult position.

After all, the dinner was hosted by the Jett family. Ivan was soon to be their son- in-law, and his word carried weight. If she could get the guest list from him, it would be much easier.

She hesitated.

But her uncle’s illness loomed over her, urgent and pressing. In the end, she made her way back toward the ballroom.

She texted Ivan: [Could you meet me by the side hall for a moment?]

He didn’t reply.

So she went to wait anyway.

Her temples throbbed; she massaged them, feeling the dull ache from today’s radiation treatment. She’d thrown up twice, her immune system was shot, and she had a chill she couldn’t shake.

She didn’t wait long.

Ivan showed up at last, one hand in his pocket, a cigarette perched between his lips. His gaze roamed over her, bold and almost predatory.

Usually, Elodie wore thick coats, hiding her figure. But tonight, she was dressed in a pearl-white satin gown.

Her shoulders and neck were exposed, skin pale and delicate. The fabric hugged her curves, accentuating her femininity in a way that was impossible to miss.

She was far more alluring now than she’d been years ago.

He knew exactly why.

Because she’d spent the last few years being cherished-perhaps even worshipped.

Ivan’s jaw clenched, an icy storm flashing in his eyes before he forced it down.

Elodie didn’t notice his turmoil. He was smiling, but she could sense his mood was anything but pleasant.

She pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders. “Could you give me the guest list for tonight’s dinner? I need to find someone.”

Ivan exhaled a cloud of smoke. “Is that all you want to talk to me about?”

She frowned. “What else?”

“Not because I’m getting engaged and you wanted to say something?” He stepped closer, lowering his head to meet her eyes. “You’re not here to stop me?”

Or maybe―

Ask him to stay?

Elodie blinked, surprised, but quickly collected herself. “That’s not what I’m here for. I just need the list.”

Ivan gave a cold, mirthless laugh. “Elodie, whether it’s the guest list or my engagement-don’t put me in a tough spot.”

A weight pressed down on Elodie’s chest.

Clearly, Ivan had made up his mind about her motives and wouldn’t believe her no matter what she said.

She took a step back. “If not, then forget it.”

She turned to leave.

And at that moment, her gaze collided with Jarrod’s across the room. He was on the phone, speaking absently. He glanced over at her, said a few words to the other person, then hung up and started heading back toward the ballroom.

Ivan cocked his head, a wicked smirk on his lips. “Mr. Silverstein, your wife’s a bit of a handful. Maybe you should talk to her?”