Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert) novel Chapter 522

When Rupert cracked the whip, snow began to fall gently in the dark. It drifted down in thick flakes, swirling in the cold night air.

A sharp sound pierced the silence, almost like a mournful wail. In that moment, the snow seemed to spin in the air as Sylvia collapsed, crimson blood seeping through her sweater, staining the wool deep red.

Numbness washed over her, as if someone had ripped her senses clean from her body—even breathing seemed impossible.

But as the air left her lungs, the pain set in, rippling through her whole body.

Her back felt like it was being torn apart, the agony so raw she could only bury her face in the snow, her hands gripping a handful of icy slush.

And still, Sylvia didn’t cry. She didn’t beg.

Bit by bit, she pushed her arms forward, forcing herself up off the ground.

“One,” she counted, her lips trembling. “Keep going.”

Her voice was shaky, yes, but full of stubborn defiance. Even the Garcia family, people who always looked down on her, were stunned.

The family’s old punishments were infamous—few men could take them, let alone a delicate woman like Sylvia.

The crowd had gathered, eager to watch her break and beg for mercy. After all, Sylvia had always been the family joke.

But now, no one was laughing.

Sylvia was tougher than anyone thought.

Still, Rupert was the real surprise—he didn’t hold back at all.

That first strike had ripped her skin open.

He and Sylvia once had a fling, though it was long over. Still, the family liked to whisper about them.

But now, seeing Rupert’s coldness, it was clear—there was nothing between them.

No one noticed the way snowflakes clung to Rupert’s lashes, or the red fury burning in his eyes as he raised the whip again.

Just then, Edwin burst into the yard.

He shoved Rupert aside, shielding Sylvia with his body. “What the hell are you doing?” he shouted. “Am I dead, that you think you can punish my daughter without me?”

He still had a life to live with Naomi. She couldn’t let him destroy everything for her sake.

Edwin’s heart ached for her. He leaned in and said softly, “Sylvia, don’t worry. I’ll take you to the hospital.”

Hearing his gentle, fatherly tone, Sylvia’s eyes filled with tears.

She nodded, then shook her head. “No… there are still nine lashes left.”

Without hesitation, Edwin scooped her up in his arms and glared at the crowd, locking eyes with Tristan.

Tristan pressed his lips together, silent.

Seeing this, Kay, who had been watching with a smug look, couldn’t sit still. Her eyes flashed with resentment.

“Mr. Edwin, Sylvia made a mistake first. She agreed to the family’s punishment to cut ties with us for good,” Kay said.

“Ms. Winslet, let me remind you—if it’s a family matter, it’s none of your business. You don’t get a say here,” Edwin shot back, his tone icy.