Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert) novel Chapter 303

At that moment, the client sitting across from Rupert raised his glass and burst out laughing.

“Mr. Rupert, you’re too kind. I just stepped off the plane and you’re already rolling out the red carpet for me!”

Rupert gave a polite nod, snuffing out his cigarette, and gestured toward the drinks. “It’s the least I could do. Please, help yourself.”

His eyes, though, were cool and detached.

Sylvia stiffened at the exchange, instantly understanding what these women were here for—drinks, maybe more. Her face went even paler. There was no way Rupert hadn’t recognized her, and yet he was pretending not to see her. Worse, he was letting someone else choose first.

The client set down his whiskey, got up, and leisurely looked over the row of women lined up in front of him—finally letting his gaze rest on Sylvia.

Her breath caught. She bit down hard on her lip, hands clenching into fists, but she didn’t dare let her panic show. If the client came any closer, she didn’t care what big deal Rupert was negotiating—she’d lose it right there and then.

But the man didn’t pick anyone right away. Instead, he joked, “Mr. Rupert, you’ve got excellent taste. I can barely decide—too many beautiful choices. Maybe you should go first. I’d hate to be a rude guest.”

His words said one thing, but his eyes kept darting back to Rupert, trying to read every move. Businessmen always liked to keep their options open—especially in places like this.

Rupert gave a non-committal hum, lounging back against the leather couch. He traced lazy circles around the rim of his glass, looking casual but somehow dangerous at the same time.

His gaze swept over the group, then he raised his hand and pointed: “Her.”

Sylvia heard a stir next to her and looked up, following Rupert’s finger. Her heart twisted, then plummeted into a black hole.

It wasn’t her. He’d picked the woman next to her—a girl in a high ponytail and a plaid skirt that made her look like she’d just walked out of a prep school.

Sylvia didn’t have time to wonder about Rupert’s preferences. She just stared, dazed, until the ache in her chest reminded her she’d forgotten to breathe.

Three seconds ago, she’d actually had a sliver of hope—maybe, since they knew each other, Rupert would pick her, or at least let her leave quietly. He could do his business, and she wouldn’t arouse any suspicions.

But instead, not only did he not pick her, he left her to be chosen by someone else.