How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue novel Chapter 614

Klein and the others were still deep in conversation about policy, oblivious to what was unfolding at their table.

Leaning back in his chair, Jarrod responded to Watts’ earlier remark with an easy, unhurried smile. “Mr. Aldridge is a good man—no worries there. I’ll continue to support our country’s space program in every way I can. Whatever resources are needed, I’ll make sure they’re provided. I won’t let my wife exhaust herself, so Mr. Aldridge can focus on his research without distraction.”

His words were like a gentle push, steering the conversation without confrontation.

Watts understood men like Jarrod all too well—men whose minds were fathomless, impossible to outmaneuver. There was a reason why, in their social circles, people would say that among the sons of old families, most were left chasing the scraps left in Jarrod’s wake.

With a nonchalant shrug, Watts raised his glass toward Jarrod. “You have my word, Mr. Silverstein. Rest assured.”

Both men remained composed, the atmosphere so calm that an outsider would never guess at the tension simmering beneath the surface.

Across the table, Lily watched closely. She noticed a flicker of something hungry in Watts’ gaze when he looked at Elodie—a glint of ambition, unmistakable once you saw it.

The realization unsettled her so much that the gourmet food in front of her suddenly lost all appeal.

As for Elodie, she couldn’t be bothered to chime in. Her attention was caught by Klein, who was discussing some of the technical barriers currently stalling progress in aerospace.

It was the same old story: foreign monopolies on crucial materials and manufacturing processes, with major countries tightly restricting what they exported. These were issues she’d wrestled with five years ago, and clearly, they still hadn’t been resolved.

If those barriers could ever be broken… it was one of her dearest wishes.

Just then, a tall figure appeared in the doorway. “Mr. Whitaker! I thought it might be you,” called a cheerful voice.

Patricia entered in high heels, waving at Elodie with a bright smile. “What a coincidence running into you here!”

She knew a few of the senior managers present, so she made her rounds, shaking hands and greeting everyone with casual warmth. “It’s been ages, Mr. Clifford.”

Then she turned to Klein. “Mr. Whitaker, my friend owns this place. I just found out you were all here—hope I’m not interrupting?”

Klein hardly blinked. “Not at all. Pull up a chair and join us.”