Luckily, Jarrod was quick. He threw a punch and smashed the bottle in Ivan''s hand before it could hit anyone.


    Elodie saw blood welling at Jarrod''s knuckles.


    The two men crashed into each other, grappling violently.


    The alcohol seemed to drain from Ivan''s system in an instant. Eyes bloodshot, he fixed Jarrod with a wild stare, his lips split in a twisted grin. "Jarrod, let me be honest with you. Elodie''s always had a ce for me in her heart. You could have any woman you want-why break us apart? Do us both a favor, let her go. Let us be together. Can''t you do that?"


    With those words, Jarrod who had been all cold fury-froze for a split second.


    That was all the opening Ivan needed.


    A sudden, animalistic rage overtook Ivan. He tossed the broken bottleneck aside, grabbed Jarrod by the cor, and mmed him hard against the door.


    Bang!


    The heavy thud echoed through the room.


    Elodie watched it all, a pressure building in her chest until her throat ached. "Enough, Ivan!" she shouted.


    She was not someone who lost her temper easily. Even in the worst situations, she''d always tried to stay calm and collected.


    But now, her clenched hands trembled with the effort. She was grateful for the kindness Ivan had once shown her, for the memories they''d shared but now, all those good things felt like knives twisting in her gut. She''d always thought Ivan was like her mother, her grandmother, her uncle-someone she could rely on, someone she could call family.


    She''d been almost obsessively loyal to her family and those she cared about.


    But theforting blur of childhood attachment had long since faded. And now, even thest fragile thread of familial affection, woven over more than ten years, had finally snapped.


    "Ivan, you want the truth?" she said icily, staring at him. "I don''t feel a shred of what you think I do. I was grateful to you once, and yes, I depended on you, but that''s all it ever was-dependence, not love. I don''t love you. Do you understand? If you do, then leave. Now."


    Ivan stared at her, stunned.


    Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was something else, but it was as if a part of him had just drained away.


    He slumped over, gasping for air.


    He was thoroughly drunk.


    Jarrod said nothing, simply lowering his eyes as he watched her.


    Elodie ignored Jarrod, bent down, and picked up Ivan''s phone from where it had fallen at her feet. He never bothered with a lock screen, so it was easy to open. She scrolled through his contacts until she found Queenie Jett''s number, then dialed. When Queenie answered Elodie gave a quick address. "Could youe pick him up, please?"


    She tossed the phone back to Ivan.


    Jarrod nced at Ivan, who was now utterly defeated. Blood dripped from Jarrod''s hand, but he didn''t seem to notice. His lips curled into a faint, sardonic smile. "Mr. Harcourt, who told you we were separated?"


    Ivan''s face darkened.


    Elodie frowned at Jarrod, not understanding why he''d suddenly said that, or for


    that matter, how he''d even appeared at just the right moment.


    Before she could dwell on it, the elevator doors slid open.


    Queenie rushed in barely three minutester, breathless and frantic.


    Elodie''s expression shifted. So Queenie had been nearby all along?


    Queenie''s eyes filled with tears the second she saw Ivan''s bloodied face. She hurried to his side, voice trembling. "Ivan?"


    Ivan ignored her.


    Queenie''s gaze shed, turning on Elodie with a fierce, jealous re. “I''m


    begging you! Have some respect. Stop hanging around him!"


    Clearly, Queenie had always known more than she''d let on.


    Elodie suddenly recalled the time Queenie had told her that the diamond ne Ivan gave her was just a freebie from buying a gift for Queenie herself. Back then, Elodie had believed it was an innocent mistake. But looking back, she realized there are no real misunderstandings-if you say something, there''s usually a reason behind it.


    For a moment, Elodie wondered: why are people so ruled by their emotions?


    How many times had she, and now Queenie, done thingspletely out of character, just because of feelings? Both of them were prisoners in a cage of their own making.


    Pitiful and tragic, all at once.