Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert) novel Chapter 297

Tristan stood with his hands behind his back, first glancing at Sylvia before fixing his heavy gaze on Naomi.

"Is this how you teach a child? Her tuition goes up every year, and yet Edwin lacks nothing compared to her. Is this the thanks we get?"

"I hoped you'd at least learn the ropes and be a good partner, but you can't even manage to raise a child properly. What can you do?"

His words were sharp as a knife, and with each jab, Naomi's head drooped lower, her cheeks burning crimson, her hands twisting nervously in her lap.

Sylvia could see it all, and it pained her deeply.

Anger coursed through her veins, making her feel like she was on fire. Though she knew she’d done nothing wrong, the guilt clawed at her, making her eyes sting.

She knew exactly who Tristan really wanted to scold.

Once upon a time, Sylvia had genuinely treated Tristan like a grandfather.

When her mom took care of a sick Tristan, Sylvia had often helped out too, only to be secretly warned by him.

"You're too young to have such ambitions," Tristan had remarked, thinking her actions were merely an attempt to curry favor with the influential.

Back then, she was just seventeen or eighteen, naive and hopeful, dreaming of a complete family she could cherish.

But after that comment, Sylvia made sure to steer clear of any Garcia family gatherings.

She even avoided mentioning her connection to the Garcias in public.

Looking back now, she realized that no matter what she did, Tristan would never truly accept her.

Sylvia took a deep breath, a bitter smile playing on her lips. "Tristan, you're not the one who raised me, who went through all the hard work, so what gives you the right to criticize my mom?"

"Next time you're feeling unwell, maybe don't call my mom to stay up all night taking care of you! When there's something good, even the household staff of the Garcias get some credit, but if my mom or I do, we're accused of having ulterior motives. And when things go bad, we get the blame. How's that fair?"

"Sylvia!" Rupert stepped through the crowd, grabbing her arm with a stern warning. "Enough."

Sylvia didn’t want to repeat herself, but Tristan's glance at Naomi left her with no choice. Her lips trembled as she forced out the words.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

Her voice grew louder with each repetition, filling the room with a chilling resonance.

"Is that loud enough? Do you need it louder?"

Bridget hesitated, glancing at Rupert, awaiting his nod.

Rupert gave a curt nod, his expression calm but with an undercurrent of tension.

Bridget couldn’t hide her smirk any longer. "Sylvia, I forgive you. From now on, I'm your elder, so why would I hold a grudge?"

Sylvia said nothing, taking Naomi’s hand and walking past Rupert to leave the room.