Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert) novel Chapter 490

Rupert glanced down at the guy sprawled on the floor with a bored look. “Moving in and out again? Looks like you had a tough time with that.”

Orson stepped forward, handing over a few photos.

The pictures showed the man struggling to carry a seemingly empty cardboard box.

The bottom of the box was way thicker than the others stacked up with apples in the background—clearly, someone had rigged it.

Tristan opened his mouth to protest, but Orson flipped to the next photo.

This one was from a security camera—there was the same man, trying to pawn off a bunch of skincare products. He didn’t even bother peeling off the tacky “congrats” stickers from the bottles.

Rupert’s eyes narrowed, his voice flat and cold. “And just to mention, he stole five genuine silver bracelets and pawned them to pay off his debts.”

Smack!

Tristan slammed his hand on the table. “Rupert!”

Rupert straightened his suit, standing up. “How you want to handle this, Dad, is up to you. After all, you’re the head of the house.”

“I’m leaving.”

With that, he strode out of the dining room.

Tristan’s eyes flared with rage. “You! You’ve known all along, haven’t you? And you waited until now to say something—what, you wanted to watch the fireworks?”

Rupert didn’t answer. He just kept walking.

Tristan was so furious, his chest heaved. The butler hurried over to steady him before he could collapse.

“I’m so sorry, sir, it’s my fault. I didn’t know this guy would…” The butler stammered, pale with worry.

Tristan shot a cold glare at the man on the floor, then gripped the butler’s arm. “Take care of it.”

“Yes, sir.”

The butler nodded and looked to the security guards at the door.

In no time, the guy was dragged out.

After a moment of uneasy silence, the butler spoke up, cautious. “We can’t find Sylvia. Do you still want to take action? Honestly, if Rupert’s set on marrying Ms. Sanford, Sylvia isn’t a real threat anymore.”

“Because I don’t like people looking at me like I’m trash. Is that a good enough reason?”

With that, she grabbed the glass of milk and a couple slices of toast, and walked toward the living room.

Rupert narrowed his eyes and caught her wrist.

“Talk properly.”

“Uncle Rupert, this is just who I am,” Sylvia shot back, repeating herself with the same calm.

Rupert’s gaze was dark and unreadable, something dangerous simmering beneath.

Without another word, he took the milk and toast from her hands and led her to the dining table.

“I brought you something else for breakfast.”

Sylvia glanced at the spread—all her favorite pastries and snacks.

But now, looking at them, there wasn’t even a flicker of happiness in her eyes. She nodded quietly, playing along.