Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert) novel Chapter 526

No, that can’t be right.

In their previous lives, Bridget and Kay never even met. Sylvia and Naomi had never laid eyes on Kay either. So how could their deaths be connected to her?

And now, Bridget—after her accident left her disfigured and crippled—had lost her mind. The Simpsons had long since checked her into a psychiatric hospital.

Just a few days ago, someone online posted about visiting her. Bridget was a mess, barely recognizable as human anymore.

She hadn’t managed to die, but her life was worse than death. Maybe this was the best kind of punishment for her.

Honestly, with Kay’s proud and untouchable personality, there’s no way she’d have anything to do with someone like Bridget.

But Sylvia pressed her fingers to her aching forehead, unable to make any of these things fit together.

Then four words popped into her mind: multi-million dollar deal.

In both lives, the only person linked to Kay was Rupert.

What if Edwin and Naomi’s deaths had just been lies Rupert fed her? The thought was terrifying.

Sylvia’s face paled, and she clutched her head, refusing to let her mind go any further.

…

The Garcia residence.

Chris pulled off his bloody disposable gloves, tossed them in the trash, and let out a long, exhausted breath.

He spotted the pack of cigarettes on the table, and for once didn’t care about the house rules. He grabbed one, lit up, and took a drag.

Blowing out smoke, he glanced over and joked, “Hey, I know a guy who sells life insurance. Want me to get you a policy? Just put me down as the beneficiary.”

Rupert was leaning against the desk, backlit by the overhead light. The shadows cut across his face, making him look almost villainous.

His torso was wrapped in bandages, sharp muscles showing through. He wore black dress pants and a matte leather belt, coiled around his waist like a snake.

He gave off an unmistakable air of danger.

Rupert cupped his bandaged hand around his lighter and lit a cigarette, his voice low and calm. “It’s not serious.”

And it wasn’t. Anyone could see that no one had dared to go too far.

But the way he acted—throwing himself right into harm’s way without a second thought—was reckless as hell.

With that, Reese turned and walked away from the study.

Back inside, Chris stubbed out his cigarette hard enough to nearly break the ashtray.

Rupert didn’t answer, which was answer enough.

“So what the hell does Kay really want?”

Chris’s eyes were wide, burning with curiosity.

Rupert sat down, one hand resting on the armrest, the other holding his cigarette. When he looked up, it was like he could see right through you.

“You’ve been fishing for answers all night. Don’t you have anything to confess yourself?”

Chris almost choked on his last drag of smoke.

He slapped a hand over his mouth. “Confess to what?”