Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert) novel Chapter 197

Sylvia cast a glance over the grand dining table, her mind wandering back to the last time she was seated here for a meal, which ended in a heated argument directed at Bridget and her mom.

At the head of the table sat Tristan, clad in a sharp suit, his expression slightly stern.

Out of politeness, Sylvia still managed a respectful, “Grandpa.”

“Mm, sit down, let’s eat,” he said, gesturing for everyone to start with a wave of his hand.

Sylvia eyed the seafood spread on the table and swallowed hard, but with Tristan present, she only helped herself to the beef in front of her.

She wasn’t just representing herself, but also Naomi. Considering Naomi would still be living with the Garcias, every action and word from her, as Naomi's daughter, was of utmost importance.

As she pondered, Naomi loaded her plate with an array of seafood, including slices of raw fish, conch meat, and even went as far as to serve her a hearty bowl of lobster bisque.

Naomi whispered without drawing any attention, “Eat up. I’ll get you some black cod, stuffed shrimp, and grilled prawns later.”

Sylvia nodded in gratitude, silently thanking her daughter.

Previously not a fan of seafood, finding it too fishy, Sylvia’s view completely changed after tasting the seafood prepared by the Garcia family’s chef.

She took a sip of the lobster bisque and reached for a slice of raw fish.

“Ahem.” Rupert coughed twice, setting down his fork. “The raw fish is off, let’s remove it.”

Sylvia was taken aback.

Wasn’t the Garcia family’s seafood always flown in fresh?

How could it go bad?

Did the chef no longer care?

It wasn’t Sylvia’s place to comment on the Garcia family’s matters, so she silently put down the raw fish slice as the servants cleared it away.

Well, there was still the conch meat.

But before she could even touch it, Rupert lightly tapped on the table.

“The conch hasn’t been properly cleaned of its fishiness.”

“Yeah.”

Sylvia understood his implication.

It was a subtle hint that she should visit the Garcias less frequently.

After taking a sip of the soup, Tristan continued, “So, Sylvia, what brought you here today?”

Sylvia set her bowl down, meeting Tristan’s wary gaze.

Indeed, Tristan was still uneasy about her presence. Some matters required her to make a public promise to ease those concerns.

“I’ve moved out, just came to pick up the last of my things. I won’t be staying here anymore.”

“Hmm, finally showing some sense,” Tristan nodded in approval, going back to his meal.

Sylvia only managed a few sips of soup before losing her appetite, especially as the greasy chicken soup churned in her stomach. She fought the urge to vomit several times but couldn’t hold it back any longer.

“Excuse me, I need to use the restroom,” she said, standing up.