Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert) novel Chapter 566

"What?" Chris ripped off his mask, his voice sharp with disbelief. "Who'd buy that?"

On the hospital bed, Rupert sat up, propping himself against the pillows and lighting a cigarette.

Through the faint haze of smoke, his eyes were shadowed, unreadable.

"You really think Sylvia can get a handle on Kay just because she caught one of her toy boys? Do you even know how many of those pretty boys Kay keeps on retainer?"

Chris froze, his jaw dropping. "Wait, what are you saying?"

"Kay wasn't lying—those guys are all professionally trained. And the one doing the training? Kay herself. How else do you think she stays so influential among the country club wives?"

Rupert flicked his ash into a paper cup.

Chris raised an eyebrow. "So she's running a finishing school on the side now? She's the CEO of Winslet Group, for crying out loud—"

"Why not? It's the easiest way to control those high-society wives—married off for business, left alone in their big houses. If both sides want in, it's a win-win. If someone steps out of line, it becomes blackmail. Most of those wives have a share in the family business—not enough to call the shots, but enough to stir the pot. That's all Kay needs."

Affairs between power couples were nothing new in their circle, but there were ground rules: never leave evidence, and never drag the family name through the mud.

Kay had mastered the art, sending in those trained young men to hit the lonely hearts of the rich wives right where it hurt.

Chris had to admit, Kay was gutsy—and damn good at it.

"So Mrs. Hanson, too?"

Rupert nodded.

A thought struck Chris. "So when you let that guy go, you didn’t want to raise a red flag? And you left Yves alone because Mrs. Hanson’s got dirt with Kay? If something happened to Yves, Kay would just wipe the evidence. The worst part would be Mrs. Hanson taking the fall herself to protect her son and her family's reputation. Then both Yves and Kay walk away clean."

Rupert took a drag, saying nothing—that was answer enough.

Off to the side, Orson, who'd been quietly listening, finally snapped. He grabbed his tablet and pulled up a photo.

...

In another hospital room.

Sylvia woke up with a start, this time to find someone sitting by her bed.

"Edwin? Why aren’t you with my mom?"

"Edwin, let me ask you something."

Sylvia twisted the napkin in her hands, cutting him off.

Edwin watched her for a moment, then nodded. "Go ahead."