How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue novel Chapter 820

Jarrod’s grip on his phone tightened instinctively.

His gaze was icy, and a cool, mocking smile curved at his lips. “Mr. Aldridge, you really do have your hands in everything, don’t you?”

Of course Watts heard the threat in Jarrod’s tone—he wasn’t exactly being subtle. With leverage like this, why not use it?

“Mr. Silverstein, you have to understand—business is about results. The process is never clean for any of us. Besides, you’re my senior in this game.”

None of this had been part of the plan.

To be honest, when he first heard about it, anger had flared in him.

He couldn’t even say exactly why.

After all, it had nothing to do with him—at least, that’s what he told himself.

But then he remembered how they’d tried to get rid of that child, how the child’s survival had become a bond between Elodie and Jarrod that refused to break. That silent fury swept over him all over again.

Still, he kept his cool.

And straightaway, he realized: the child Jarrod had fought so hard to save was, in a way, a hostage.

Now Jarrod was stuck here, panicked about Elodie’s disappearance.

Which meant New York was wide open—a vulnerability he couldn’t cover on his own.

Watts had already sent people over. By tomorrow, he’d have results—faster than Jarrod could possibly arrange a response.

This was the moment to negotiate.

To take whatever he wanted.

“Mr. Silverstein, why don’t you think it over? Do you want the money, or do you want Elodie and your… child?” Watts was in no rush. No matter how you looked at it, he had the upper hand.

Jarrod was completely at his mercy.

Given how Jarrod had schemed to keep that child, Watts understood perfectly well—Elodie and the child meant more to Jarrod than almost anything.

The irony wasn’t lost on him.

“Always a man of action, Mr. Silverstein. That makes things much simpler.”

Jarrod ended the call without hesitation.

He knew exactly what was going on.

Watts had called so openly because he wasn’t afraid of being traced.

He was probably calling from somewhere outside his usual base—no one here was stupid. Jarrod wouldn’t waste time chasing phantoms.

He turned and walked back inside.

Esmeralda and Fleming looked up at him.

Esmeralda had overheard enough to piece things together.

She forced herself to stay calm. “You’re really going to Verdania?”