Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert) novel Chapter 3

She's back! She actually came back!

Ignoring people’s astonished expressions around her, Sylvia pinched herself hard. Pain swept through her body, instantly filling her eyes with tears.-

"Stop your crying! It's not like we have wronged you!" a commanding voice echoed from the head of the table.

Snapping back to reality, Sylvia looked up, meeting the old Mr. Garcia, Tristan Garcia's displeased gaze. She quickly lowered her head, seemingly humble as ever, yet her body couldn't stop trembling with excitement.

Whispers and snickers filled the air around her.

"Such a young age, and instead of learning good, she dares to drug Rupert and sneak into his bed, causing a scandal. Clearly, she's trying to force Rupert to take responsibility for her, and now she can't even own up to it. I don't know who raised her."

"She's obviously not one of us. We could never raise such a shameless person. Her online diary, obsessing over Rupert, was exposed, blushing at every word! We spent money to send her to college, and this is what she learns, acting like a siren."

"I always said, don't just bring anyone home. Clearly, she's a wolf in sheep's clothing, clinging to Rupert. I wonder if it's learned behavior or...inherited."

With that, their gazes slid toward Sylvia's mother, Naomi, standing at the end of the room.

Naomi's face was pale, glancing at Sylvia before quickly lowering her head, almost biting her inner lip raw, yet not daring to utter a word of rebuttal.

Because Sylvia's situation was too peculiar. She had entered the Garcia Manor through her mother's remarriage; her mother married Rupert's second oldest brother.

Thus, by relation, she should call Rupert "uncle".

But she never did. Because she didn't have the right.

But Sylvia was staring at him intently. Until he felt her gaze and looked over at her.

In that moment, Sylvia, with the memories of her past life, instinctively trembled with fear, tasting blood in her mouth, her hands clenched as if holding Stella's.

She could never forget that face. Well-defined features, inscrutable eyes, and the red jade ring on his left thumb, its luster hinting at blood. Just like him, seemingly indifferent but dangerously bloodthirsty.

Rupert caught Sylvia's gaze, his hand turning the ring pausing momentarily. Until a pair of soft, fair-skinned hands rested on his shoulder, he returned his demeanor to its usual coldness.

It was Bridget. Her eyes were red rimmed, her delicate face full of grievance.

Finally, everyone was present.