Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert) novel Chapter 311

It was him.

Chris.

The man paused mid-motion. "You know me?"

Sylvia quickly looked away, shaking her head. Her voice trembled as she pleaded, "I swear, I don’t know anything. Why won’t Ms. Lance believe me?"

She couldn’t admit it—there might still be a slim chance to get out of this.

The man let out a cocky laugh. "Then you make sure to haunt her, you hear?"

He raised the metal pipe and swung it down.

Sylvia instinctively curled up, bracing herself. But almost at the same instant, the man was flung across the room like a ragdoll, crashing into a row of lockers.

The lockers toppled in a domino effect, smashing through the plywood covering the window.

Moonlight spilled through the jagged gap, stretching the shadow of the man now standing before her. Blood dripped from his bruised knuckles, staining the ruby ring on his finger an even deeper red.

It was Rupert.

When she recognized him, Sylvia bit down on her colorless lips and slid down the wall, her legs giving out.

Before she hit the ground, strong arms swept her up.

The helmeted man, seeing this, scrambled through the broken window and fled into the night.

Rupert carried Sylvia out of the pool house. Orson approached, his expression grim.

"Fanny’s gone. All the security footage in the area’s been wiped—someone must’ve tipped them off."

Only the Lance family could pull off something like this so fast.

Rupert looked down at the pale woman in his arms. Dressed head-to-toe in black, he nearly vanished into the darkness. His chiseled features were cold, his eyes glinting with dangerous intent.

"Is everything ready?"

"But, Rupert—Tristan…"

Orson met Rupert’s gaze. Whatever he saw there made him swallow and nod, falling silent.

…