Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert) novel Chapter 554

Sylvia woke to pitch blackness all around her.

The air was thick with the coppery tang of blood and something salty and damp, so strong that just breathing made her gag.

She doubled over, clutching at something nearby as she dry heaved.

When she finally steadied herself, she realized her hand was wrapped around a set of cold iron bars. Her palm felt sticky. She pulled her hand back and shuddered—blood.

A shiver ran down her spine. Her fingers trembled as she wiped them off on her jeans, barely able to process what was happening.

Suddenly, a dim light flicked on overhead, casting pale shadows across the small space around her.

Her heart hammered in her chest as she took in her surroundings.

She was locked in what looked like a cell, with metal bars like something out of a medieval dungeon.

Panic surged through her. She glanced at her hand again, blood smeared across her skin.

Before she could think too much, a gruff voice echoed from the darkness beyond the bars.

“Told you, there’s no way out.”

Yves stepped into the weak light, his shadow looming across the concrete floor.

Sylvia shrank back into the corner, fighting to keep her voice steady. “Mr. Hanson, what the hell is this? You know this is kidnapping, right? If I don’t get home soon, my mom will call the cops.”

Yves let out a low, mocking laugh. “The cops? Why would she call the cops? Right now, you’re my fiancée. All I have to do is say we went on a little trip overseas—think the police are really going to chase us across the ocean?”

Terror gripped Sylvia, making her dizzy. She pressed her head into her knees, shaking uncontrollably.

Yves seemed to enjoy her fear; his smirk widened as he straightened his suit jacket and sauntered closer to the bars.

“Finally scared, huh? Too late for that. You shouldn’t have ignored me, and you really shouldn’t have messed with Reese’s wedding.”

Sylvia’s voice broke as she pleaded, “You… you like Ms. Sanford? Then why did you agree to marry Ms. Winslet’s daughter—me?”

She slipped out into the hallway. The darkness closed in around her, icy and oppressive, but she forced herself to move forward, following the direction Yves had taken.

Suddenly she bumped into something cold and metallic. Heart pounding, she stumbled back, stepping on something sharp on the floor.

With a sudden snap, a bright light blazed on overhead.

Sylvia shielded her eyes, blinking against the harsh glare. When her vision adjusted, she slowly lowered her hand—and froze.

Every instinct screamed at her to run.

She turned the lamp away from the table, and the beam caught on a wall plastered with photographs.

Sylvia clapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide with horror as she realized what she was seeing.