Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert) novel Chapter 523

Kay felt like she’d just been slapped in public—the humiliation burned, and she had to grit her teeth to keep her regal composure.

As she turned to leave, Sylvia lifted her pale eyes to Rupert. There was nothing but emptiness and silence in her gaze.

“Mr. Rupert, don’t forget,” she said quietly, “from this moment on, I have nothing to do with the Garcia family.”

“If you’re in charge now, Mr. Rupert, then let’s seal it with a handshake.”

Her voice trembled as she raised her hand.

Rupert’s eyes widened for a split second, then became as still as a frozen lake.

He didn’t hesitate. He lifted his hand.

Clap. Clap. Clap. Three times.

But after the last one, neither of them let go immediately. The chill between their palms felt like a snowstorm.

Sylvia closed her eyes, her body swaying like a crimson maple leaf in a winter wind, about to fall.

Her hand slipped from Rupert’s grasp; he curled his fingers, but with everyone watching, he turned away without a word.

Edwin was at her side in a heartbeat, catching Sylvia and hurrying her out.

Rupert stood, shrouded in the blackness of night, unmoving.

It wasn’t until Reese noticed the blood dripping from his fingers onto the floor that she realized the handle of the riding crop had cut into his palm.

“Mr. Rupert, your hand—are you okay?”

He ignored her, stepped around, and tossed the crop at Tristan’s feet.

“The last nine lashes—let me. But remember what you promised.”

Everyone stared in shock.

...

At the hospital.

Chris rushed in to find Sylvia lying facedown on the bed, getting her wounds cleaned.

He took the ointment and waved the nurse away.

Once she was gone, Chris finished dressing Sylvia’s wounds, then quickly turned his back to give her privacy.

Sylvia pushed herself up and slipped her shirt on. Maybe it was the meds, but the pain was already easing.

“I know,” Sylvia said, her voice flat. “But I still learned a lot tonight.”

At least now she truly understood how cold Rupert could be—he wouldn’t spare her, not even with her memory gone.

She looked down, her face as lifeless as a porcelain doll. To them, she was just a used-up token to be traded when convenient.

She let out a bitter laugh.

Just then, her phone lit up.

Sylvia checked the message, a cold smile on her lips. “Looks like the fish finally took the bait.”