Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert) novel Chapter 469

Tristan’s face was stormy with anger, his jaw clenched tight.

The butler bowed his head respectfully and asked, “So, what would you like me to do next, sir?”

Tristan closed his eyes, thinking for a moment before opening them again. “How’s Naomi coming along with the arrangements?”

“She’s been thorough and enthusiastic, sir.”

“Good.”

Tristan shot the butler a long look.

…

Naomi stepped out of the kitchen, rubbing her aching back.

Sylvia helped her across the porch, just as Rupert came down the hallway toward them.

Naomi grinned. “Rupert, you’re back!”

“Yeah.” Rupert gave a short nod, his eyes flickering past Naomi and settling on Sylvia.

Sylvia dropped her gaze, her voice flat. “Uncle Rupert.”

Rupert didn’t reply.

Sylvia had no wish to make small talk with him. She grabbed Naomi’s arm and started to leave.

But as they passed, Rupert suddenly reached out and caught Sylvia’s hand.

She froze, startled, his long fingers intertwining with hers as if trying to say something without words.

But Sylvia was done guessing, done hoping, done driving herself crazy with what-ifs.

She was just so tired.

She pulled her hand away, refusing to look at him, and clung to Naomi as they kept walking.

“Hold on,” Rupert’s voice was cold as steel, stopping them both in their tracks.

Naomi turned back. “What is it, Rupert?”

Rupert kept his eyes on Sylvia’s stiff back. “Thank you for everything. I picked up some gifts, but they’re still in the car. Would you mind going with Orson to bring them in?”

Naomi’s face lit up. “Oh, we’re all family—it was no trouble at all!”

“It’s the least I can do.”

“In that case, I’ll go with Orson.”

Naomi left happily with Orson, humming to herself.

“Mom!” Sylvia called after her, but it was too late.

She thought of Reese’s hopeful, trusting eyes.

Disgust twisted her stomach.

The revulsion boiled over, and she gagged.

Rupert froze.

Sylvia seized the chance to shove him away, clutching a porch column as she leaned over the railing and threw up everything she’d eaten.

Her face flushed, tears stinging her eyes, but she couldn’t stop. Even when nothing was left, she kept gagging, desperate to rid herself of the feeling.

Finally, she started jamming her fingers down her throat, so frantic she tore her own lip.

Rupert watched, his eyes cold as winter.

“Do I really disgust you that much?”

“Disgusting! It’s just disgusting!” Sylvia gasped, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Enough.” Rupert grabbed her wrists in a bruising grip. “So who doesn’t disgust you? Lester?”

“Yes. You don’t care about anything, so why pretend?” Sylvia’s eyes were bright with unshed tears. “Can I go now?”

But Rupert only held her tighter, his voice low and dangerous. “Sylvia, this is your last warning—stay away from Lester.”