Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert) novel Chapter 449

“What’s that supposed to mean? I’m not too old to run this house!”

Tristan hated to admit he was getting older—nothing scared him more.

Rupert, unfazed, replied, “Just saying, your health comes first.”

Tristan froze in his seat, his face tight with annoyance.

But after years of keeping the Garcia family together, he composed himself quickly, his expression returning to its usual calm.

He slid two documents across the table to Rupert, changing the subject. “The Christmas dinner guest list. Take a look.”

Rupert opened it.

The names were mostly the same as every year, except… Naomi’s.

Tristan’s voice was cold. “She’s still your sister-in-law. No matter what, she’s part of this family. Now that Fiona’s gone, it’s time Naomi stepped up and contributed.”

“Is that so?”

Rupert met his gaze, unblinking.

Tristan pointed to the next document, eyes sharp. “Your mother’s share transfer agreement.”

“Rupert, I know what’s really going on between you and Bridget—it’s all just for show, isn’t it? You’re only trying to protect someone else, right?”

“I can give you what you want. Just marry Reese. That’s your duty to the Garcia family—and to her.”

He signaled the butler, who tossed another log into the fireplace.

As the flames caught, Rupert’s face was cast in flickering shadow, colder than the winter wind outside.

…

Sylvia had hoped to keep her perfect attendance record before the holidays, but last night’s icy walk home had left her feverish and half-conscious all night.

She slept through the morning, missing three or four calls from Eloise before finally answering.

“I was about to call the police! Are you okay?” Eloise’s voice was tight with worry.

Sylvia could feel someone watching her, their presence both familiar and distant.

She sensed him leaning closer, his breath cold, but he stopped just inches away.

Forcing one eye open, she could barely make out a pair of intense, dark eyes. They seemed to want to say something, but in a blink, they were gone, and the room felt emptier for it.

She didn’t know why, but it felt like something inside her was being pulled away, too.

She tried to sit up, but rolled off the couch instead.

A strong arm caught her waist, pulling her back to safety.

His breathing was quick and close—she knew he was right there.

When she lifted her hand, he caught it, hesitated, then gently pulled her into his arms.

His embrace was feather-light, as if he might vanish at any moment.