Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert) novel Chapter 512

Sylvia bumped right into Rupert’s shoulder.

The bar was dim, shadows flickering off the bourbon bottles, but she could feel his eyes on her—heavy, dark, and intent.

There was something brewing behind that cool, black gaze of his. He swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing, voice gravelly as he finally spoke. “What are you so afraid of?”

His tone was low, restrained, like he was holding something back.

Sylvia ducked her head for a moment, then met his stare head-on. “Isn’t this how anyone would act around their, you know, elders?”

Rupert’s sharp eyes never left her, scanning every twitch of her expression, the air thick with tension.

But Sylvia just looked back at him, puzzled, calm as you please.

He let out a cold, almost mocking laugh under his breath, but there was something else tangled in it—something she couldn’t quite name.

Still holding her firmly, Rupert’s face stayed unreadable. “I helped you out. Don’t you think you owe me a little something in return, hmm?”

Sylvia glanced at the woman lingering beside him and nodded, understanding.

“Sure thing, Uncle Rupert,” she shot back, breezy and unfazed, like she’d help out any guy who asked the same.

Rupert’s eyes darkened, grip tightening around her wrist.

“Ow,” Sylvia hissed quietly. “Uncle Rupert, could you loosen up a bit? Kinda hard to help you like this.”

“So eager?” He arched a brow.

“I hate owing people. Once we’re even, we’re done.” Sylvia’s tone stayed matter-of-fact.

“All done? Fine by me.”

Rupert’s voice was simmering, something almost furious beneath the surface. He pulled Sylvia closer, his hand splayed possessively at her waist.

He looked down, features shadowed and distant, but his grip was anything but detached.

“No need to overthink it. This is enough. Unless you want to—”

“Sure, whatever,” Sylvia cut in, not struggling one bit. She even shot the other woman a look, cool and almost daring.

The woman bristled, chest heaving with anger, but clearly didn’t dare cross Rupert.

Rupert’s face just grew darker at Sylvia’s easy compliance—because only someone who didn’t care could act so nonchalant.

Chris shrank back, casting a nervous glance at Rupert, clearly wishing he could take back the question.

Rupert turned, icy gaze pinning Sylvia. “And he just left you here by yourself?”

Sylvia hurried to defend Lester. “He’s super busy.”

Rupert scoffed, his voice biting. “You’re way too understanding.”

“Am I? Thought so too,” Sylvia said, looking smug.

Rupert’s frown deepened. No matter what, she always managed to get under his skin.

Chris couldn’t help it—he snorted with laughter.

Rupert shot him a murderous look. Chris quickly wiped his face. “Too much whiskey,” he muttered.

As the three of them waited outside the hotel for Orson to pull up the car, a commotion broke out nearby.

Sylvia glanced over and saw the sleazy VIP who’d hit on her earlier now pinned to the ground, getting a rough lesson from someone who clearly wasn’t in the mood for games. The crowd kept their distance—no one daring to step in.