Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert)

Chapter 445



He grabbed her chin and kissed her like a man possessed.

Back when he and Lester were quietly butting heads, he'd already figured out what Lester was after.

The possessiveness in Lester's eyes was practically jumping out at him.

Sylvia was never a match for Rupert, not on a normal day, and definitely not when he was furious.

He pressed her up against the railing with such force she thought it might snap behind her.

Then, from around the corner, Reese's voice rang out.

"Mr. Rupert? Where are you? This place is a total maze!"

Almost instantly, Rupert let go of Sylvia.

Her face went ghost-pale beneath her tousled hair. She swallowed down a wave of nausea and grabbed at Rupert's shirt.

She even let out a shaky laugh, the kind that comes from being too sick to care. "What's wrong? Chickening out? Afraid she'll catch us? Uncle Rupert."

Rupert looked at her, his expression softening just a fraction.

"She's just gotten back from Norway, and honestly, the weather here's been rough on her. She can't handle too much right now. Wait for me after dinner, we'll talk then."

"Either we talk now, or... well, we don't have much left to say, do we?"

Sylvia's grip on his shirt tightened. She wasn't backing down.

Reese's footsteps grew louder. Rupert pried Sylvia's hand off, not gently, and straightened his shirt before slipping into the dining room.

Sylvia stood there in the drafty hallway, hair whipping around her face, her hand burning red in the air.

Suddenly she laughed, bitter and bright, until her eyes stung.

Since coming back from Norway, the only dreams she had were nightmares. And when the doctor gave her meds, she dreamt of being pregnant again-of Rupert sitting at her bedside, for once, looking almost gentle.

He'd said, "Let's get out of here."

But that was a fantasy. Real life had smacked her hard.

With everything that had happened, with the man Rupert was now, what right did she have to think he'd ever just leave with her?

She wiped her face, fixed her hair, and walked back into the room like nothing had happened.

Back at the table, Reese was whispering something in Rupert's ear, giggling like they were sharing a secret.

When Sylvia returned, Reese looked up. "Sylvia, you were gone forever! Everything all right?"

Everyone turned to look at her.

She sat down slowly. "Just an upset stomach."

She'd barely finished speaking before Tristan set his fork down with a scowl.

"If you're not feeling well, go rest. No need to talk about it at the table."

Sylvia glanced at Rupert—his face was unreadable, like always, as if none of this involved him at all.

He was always like this. Detached. Above it all.

Sylvia didn't bother pretending anymore. "If I don't answer, are you going to say I'm being rude again? Maybe you'd rather answer for me, Tristan?"

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"You-" Tristan's eyes flashed, but his voice as cold. "You shouldnoveldrama

your options open ack yourself into a comer, or

you'll end up being a punchline."

Sylvia pressed her lips together. She knew what he meant-that she

just singing to someone powage

showing off.

But really, she was just tired of pretending everything was fine.

She was about to snap back when Rupert's voice cut through, sharp as a knife. "Sylvia. Eat."

In that moment, she felt like she was being stabbed with a thousand tiny needles, inside and out.

Reese, trying to smooth things over, slid a fruit salad toward Tristan.

"Here, try this. Mr. Rupert and I both love it."

Tristan's face instantly lit up. "You're always so thoughtful."

Sylvia felt a pang. She used to be thoughtful, too.

But Tristan never wanted anything from her.

Reese's easy chatter smoothed over the tension, and soon enough, dinner was winding down.

As everyone finished their drinks, Lester stood and walked over to Rupert.

"Mr. Rupert, want to step outside for a smoke?"

Rupert caught the meaning. There was something they needed to discuss. "Sure."

They walked out to the smoking terrace. Lester offered Rupert a cigarette.

Rupert shook his head, lighting his own. His voice was cool. "So, what's this about?"

Lester put away his lighter, fiddling with it nervously. "I wanted to talk to you about Reese..."


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