He paused, then added, “The view here is really stunning at night.”

Elodie understood perfectly-this was the old woman’s way of nudging them toward a romantic evening.

She glanced around instinctively.

Apart from the violinist in the corner, playing softly to set the mood, and the waitstaff moving in and out at the edges, the place was hardly private.

In fact, it was the kind of setting where prying eyes and loose lips came with the territory.

“I’m done eating. I’ll head in first,” Elodie said, rising from her seat. This wasn’t the place to discuss the ring-not with the risk that anything they said could be twisted and reported straight back to Jarrod’s grandmother by morning.

Jarrod didn’t stop her. He took a cigarette from the pack, watching her with a quiet intensity. “It’s still chilly out here. Go on in.”

Not hesitating for a second, Elodie turned away.

She felt no attachment to this romantic scene, bought and paid for with money and little else.

The suite stretched out before her, easily several thousand square feet. A trail of rose petals led from the entrance all the way into the living room. She glanced toward the bedroom; even from here, she could see the bed was covered in more rose petals.

Soft lighting, bottles of expensive wine-every detail screamed Valentine’s Day. Elodie didn’t spare any of it a second look. None of it moved her.

She headed straight for the couch, brushed the petals aside, and sat down.

Here, in the privacy of the suite, Jarrod’s grandmother couldn’t eavesdrop.

She checked her watch: just past eight.

Tonight, she would settle things with Jarrod about the ring.

When she’d given him the divorce papers, she’d asked for nothing. But if he insisted on keeping the Thorne family ring, she would demand a revision-she’d have the clause added, requiring its return.

Even if it meant a court battle.

She was prepared to fight for it.

She had faith that Jarrod would see sense. If the divorce agreement was thrown out, it would be a hassle for him-everything would have to start over from scratch.

He would never tolerate such a waste of time.

Elodie let out a slow breath, only then noticing the dull ache in her lower abdomen.

She pressed a hand to her stomach. The pain had become a familiar, unwelcome companion these past few weeks, but she’d grown used to ignoring it. Digging into her bag, she pulled out her iPad and opened the latest research article Dr. Charlie had sent her.

She was absorbed in reading when Jarrod came in.

He was tall, his long legs carrying him across the room as he scrolled on his phone.

He glanced at Elodie-she was frowning at her tablet, deep in thought.

He didn’t interrupt her.

Instead, he crossed to the far end of the couch and sat down, leaving a comfortable distance between them.

The two of them sat there, each lost in their own world, as if the meticulously staged Valentine’s ambiance meant nothing at all.

It was only when the pain in her stomach grew sharper that Elodie was pulled back to the present.

She looked over and saw Jarrod, legs crossed, still engrossed in his phone, tapping out a message to someone.

Elodie took a quiet, steadying breath, forcing herself to ignore the pain. “Mr. Silverstein, can we talk?”

If it weren’t for Valentine’s Day, she doubted she’d ever get a chance to negotiate with Jarrod like this, without any interruptions.

Jarrod finally put his phone away and looked at her.

It was as if he’d been waiting for her to speak all along.

Elodie bit the inside of her cheek to steady herself, trying to keep her voice even. “Have you made up your mind about the ring?”

Jarrod had taken his mother-in-law’s wedding ring and given it to his mistress.

For her—and for the Thorne family—that was a humiliation she couldn’t accept.

Elodie wouldn’t back down.

Jarrod looked at her, then gave a faint, almost mocking smile. “Is that all you want to talk about tonight?”

Elodie’s expression stayed calm. “I don’t think there’s anything else left to say.” For a moment, the room was absolutely silent.