Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert) novel Chapter 305

The burn of whiskey hadn’t even hit her throat before a strong arm pulled Sylvia back against a hard chest.

Her hand, halfway to his cheek, was caught and pressed firmly around his neck, while his lips crashed down on hers—hungry, reckless, demanding the last drop of bourbon from her mouth.

Even when the taste of whiskey was gone, his kiss didn’t let up. It was wild, relentless.

When he finally let her come up for air, Sylvia was breathless.

He pressed a finger to her lips, stopping her from speaking. His voice was low and rough. “Not bad, huh?”

Sylvia, her hand still on his shoulder, dug her nails in as a warning: let me go.

He didn’t seem to notice. Instead, he caught her hand in his, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles.

Sylvia could’ve screamed. Was he out of his mind? Right here, in front of everyone?

Rupert didn’t care. He turned to the client across the table, his expression cool as ever. “Anything else?”

The client, cheeks flushed with embarrassment, gave a nervous laugh. “No, nothing.”

“Great. Then let’s get the paperwork done.” Rupert glanced to where Orson was standing quietly behind him.

Orson opened the folder and slid a pen across the table.

The client barely looked at the contract, wrapping an arm around the woman at his side, grinning. “Mr. Rupert, work talk just kills the mood. Tristan’s not in a hurry, either, right?”

He was stalling, hoping to squeeze a better deal out of Rupert by name-dropping Tristan.

Rupert was unfazed. He stood, pulling Sylvia up with him. “No rush, sure. But I’m not the one who lost his shirt betting on the Carmichael Group.”

The client paled, shoving the woman aside. He got it now—this was a trap, a warning.

He’d sunk a fortune into the Carmichael Group behind Rupert’s back. Now he was broke, and everyone knew he’d tried to stab Rupert in the back.

“Mr. Rupert, the Carmichael thing—”

“Don’t bother explaining. Are you signing, or not?”

“I—yes, yes. Of course.”

He signed, face tight, even though the price was a third lower than he wanted. No one in their right mind would pick a fight with Rupert.