Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert) novel Chapter 113

Sylvia's heart skipped a beat, her eyes wide with surprise as she stared at Edwin. "Why would you do that?"

Edwin's laughter was warm and heartfelt. "Tristan has always been a bit tough on you. Knowing this whole mess started because of you would only add fuel to the fire."

"I'm so sorry." Guilt washed over Sylvia.

"It's okay, don't worry about it." Edwin ruffled her hair affectionately.

Naomi waved them over. "Honey, I'm still hungry. Let's see what's left in the kitchen."

"Coming!"

The couple walked off hand in hand.

Feeling a bit stifled, Sylvia decided to take a walk in the garden. As she meandered, a shadowy figure appeared ahead.

It was Rupert. He stood by the pond, smoking, the glow of his cigarette illuminating his slender, elegant fingers. The sunlight danced on the water, transforming it into a shimmering blanket of gold that softly highlighted Rupert's handsome features. A gentle breeze teased his hair, revealing his deep, ink-like eyes.

Feeling the urge to clear the air about today's events and the hospital, Sylvia took a step forward. But Rupert's phone rang, halting her in her tracks. He turned away to answer it.

"Stop crying. I've talked Edwin down; he won't call the cops. For Sylvia's sake, he'll let you off."

"The recording? I won't let it get out."

Stunned, Sylvia stood frozen. The wind slapped her cheeks wildly, her eyes empty, her body drained and powerless.

Once again, Rupert had chosen to use her to protect Bridget. Feeling there was no point in confronting him, Sylvia turned and walked away. She wandered aimlessly through the garden, Rupert's words weighing heavily on her.

Suddenly, from behind, a beautifully pink rose was extended toward her.

Startled, Sylvia turned and managed a smile. "Warren."

Warren played with the rose absentmindedly, his gaze fixed on her. "Are you doing okay now?"

"I'm fine."

It was Rupert.

Before Sylvia could react, she was yanked from Warren's embrace and pulled tightly against Rupert's chest, enveloped by his warmth. She struggled, but Rupert held her wrists firmly behind her back.

"Come with me."

His voice was low and cold, a command that brooked no argument.

Sylvia glared up at him, refusing to budge. Because with people watching now, Rupert dared not act rashly.

But then, he leaned in, whispering in a voice meant only for her, "What would he think if I kissed you here?"

Sylvia froze, shocked.

Madman!