Even someone as level-headed as Elodie found her patience wearing thin.

Ivan had always been this way-overbearing, flamboyant, and sharp-tongued to an infuriating degree.

She snatched her phone from his hand, her expression turning icy cold. “Let go of me,” she said, her voice flat.

Ivan’s hand was still clamped around her arm.

He had seen this bristling side of Elodie more than once lately. A faint sting prickled somewhere in his chest, but Ivan brushed it aside, letting the discomfort mutate into defiance. His smile grew even colder. “You changed your number and didn’t bother to tell me?”

“Do you really think you’re that important?” Elodie shot back, her tone calm and utterly dismissive.

For a split second, Ivan was caught off guard. Then the warmth drained from his eyes, replaced by a chill.

Elodie clearly had no intention of arguing further.

With a stony face, she pulled herself free.

Just then, footsteps sounded in the hallway.

Maurice appeared in the doorway and, catching sight of the two inside, arched a brow. He glanced at Jarrod beside him and whispered, “What’s Elodie doing scrapping with her own brother?”

Jarrod’s expression didn’t so much as flicker.

By now, Elodie had shaken off Ivan’s grasp. She ignored him completely and strode toward the exit, her face impassive. Even when she saw Jarrod and Maurice, she didn’t so much as glance their way-walking right past Jarrod without a hint of acknowledgment, as if she’d never met him before.

A greeting was out of the question.

Maurice looked even more bewildered.

Ivan, seeing the newcomers, let his irritation fade and curved his lips into a careless smile—a half-hearted greeting at best.

From across the room, Maurice tried to puzzle out what was going on between Ivan and Elodie. Turning to Jarrod, he asked, “What’s up with those two? Did they just have a fight? She even shot you a dirty look just now.”

Ping-

Jarrod’s phone chimed. He glanced at the screen.

It was a message from Sylvie: Don’t worry about picking up an iced drink for me— I’m not feeling well.

He typed back a quick “OK,” barely pausing.

Without so much as lifting his head, Jarrod replied to Maurice, “Does it matter?”

The words, and the way he said them, spelled out his indifference in bold. Maurice almost burst out laughing.

He practically ran to their group chat and breathlessly recounted everything he’d just witnessed-right down to Jarrod’s perfectly nonchalant “Does it matter?”

Joseph didn’t reply.

Sylvie sent a laughing emoji.

Then she followed up with a thumbs-up, punctuating her mood and her opinion.

Elodie returned to VistaLink Technologies, handed the box of pastries to Esmeralda, and made no mention of the awkward encounter.

Ivan’s aggressive way of getting her new number? She had no time for it.

She blocked his number.

Without wasting a minute, she headed off to join Galen and the team to hash out software design details.

The military project was intended for disaster relief and security. Even with a solid base system, overhauling and adapting it for real-world needs would be a long haul-some companies spent years just running the tests.

But Elodie crunched the numbers; with her leading the team at VistaLink, she could cut the timeline down to six, maybe eight months.

Outside of work, she spent most evenings with her nose in a book.

Mr. Charlie Sterling was right: the world had moved on in the past three years. No matter how high she’d once climbed, pride and complacency were luxuries she couldn’t afford.

She still held a dual post as an academician and professor at Verdant University, though teaching was a minor part of her role; most of her energy was devoted to research, with only a handful of graduate students left from earlier years.

Verdant University was one of the country’s top schools.

It wasn’t until Elodie found herself standing at the university gates, watching the waves of people streaming past the exam center, that she realized how much had changed. It felt, for a moment, like another lifetime.