Elodie’s breath caught, and she shot Ivan a sharp look.

Her gaze shifted to Jarrod, who stood off to the side, his expression as distant as ever. Whatever had just passed between her and Ivan, Jarrod couldn’t have cared less.

But Elodie noticed-perhaps it was the word “wife” that Ivan had just used.

For the briefest moment, Jarrod’s brow twitched.

Before he could speak, his phone buzzed again. He glanced at the screen: Sylvie calling. He answered, his whole demeanor softening. “Yeah, I’ll be home soon.”

The change in his face, the gentle tone in his voice-it was impossible for Elodie not to notice.

He didn’t bother responding to Ivan. Just gave him a curt nod, then looked at Elodie for a fleeting second before striding away with long, purposeful steps.

As if Elodie had never meant a thing to him.

She didn’t need to guess who had called. Only Sylvie could make him drop his guard like that.

Elodie slowly looked away. Standing at the center of it all, no one felt Jarrod and Ivan’s thinly veiled mockery more acutely than she did.

After the way Ivan had spoken to her, the last ember of hope for his help flickered out.

Without another word, Elodie turned and left.

Ivan stayed where he was, watching her walk away.

So slight, so fragile-she looked as if a gust of wind could shatter her.

He scowled suddenly, dragging hard on his cigarette, forcing down a strange, uneasy feeling in his chest.

It was just his imagination, he told himself.

In the end, Elodie never got to meet Dr. Fergus, the specialist flown in from abroad. Disappointment weighed on her.

She’d kept an eye on the crowd all evening, but never saw anyone who matched his description.

The banquet was over.

Guests were trickling out, one by one.

With no options left, Elodie had to come up with a new plan.

Esmeralda went to fetch the car.

Elodie waited outside the entrance.

It was the dead of January in Eldermere, the cold wind biting to the bone. Even

wrapped in her long down coat, she felt the chill sinking deep.

She heard voices approaching.

Elodie glanced up—and paused.

Naylor emerged from the hall with a young man at his side.

Naylor glanced at Elodie, his eyes cool and dismissive, then looked away without so much as a nod.

Elodie had no intention of forcing a greeting on someone so cold.

Her gaze shifted, calm, to the man beside Naylor.

She’d never seen him before, but anyone walking out with Naylor had to be from the upper echelons.

The man had an undeniable presence-refined features, striking enough to draw anyone’s eye.

He noticed her looking.

Their eyes met.

Just as Elodie was about to look away, the man gave her a polite nod-an acknowledgement of her brief curiosity.

Elodie blinked, a little surprised. She’d assumed that anyone close to Naylor would treat her with the same contempt.

But he was unexpectedly courteous, almost gentlemanly.

A car horn beeped.

Esmeralda had pulled up to the curb, snapping Elodie out of her thoughts. She climbed into the car, letting the small encounter slip from her mind.

As they drove off, Elodie closed her eyes, but the thought of her mother’s wedding ring refused to fade.

She couldn’t risk it. She couldn’t just hope for the best.

If Jarrod really intended to give that ring to Sylvie, it would be a humiliation—and

a betrayal-for her and for the whole Thorne family.

Selma had stabbed her mother in the back more times than she could count.

Now Selma’s daughter was set on destroying her marriage.

No matter what, her mother’s ring could never end up on Sylvie’s finger.

Elodie dialed Jarrod’s number.

He didn’t answer.

She tried again, stubbornly.

Still nothing.

Who knows if he was ignoring her, or just hadn’t seen the calls.

It hardly mattered. Elodie was done caring.

She turned to Esmeralda, her voice hoarse. “Esme, can you take me to Silverstein Manor?”

If Jarrod wouldn’t pick up, she’d have to confront him in person.

Esmeralda understood immediately, giving her a grave nod.

On the drive, Elodie pulled out her laptop and worked on system code from the

back seat.

When they arrived at Silverstein Manor, Jarrod still hadn’t come home.