Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert) novel Chapter 319

A soft, almost imperceptible chuckle sounded from behind her.

Sylvia gritted her teeth and kept her eyes shut tight.

The man slid closer, wrapping his arms around her over the comforter, his cheek pressing into the side of her neck.

His warm breath made her clutch the covers even tighter.

“Just go to sleep,” he murmured.

“…”

Busted.

But Sylvia didn’t dare react. All she could do was keep up the act.

She honestly had no idea what she’d say if she opened her eyes—let alone how she’d face him.

Before she knew it, she’d drifted off.

When she woke, Naomi came barreling in, juggling a bag of takeout breakfast and looking like a storm.

“Karma finally caught up with them!” she announced.

Sylvia barely registered it, too hungry to care. She popped open the breakfast box and shovelled in a spoonful of oatmeal. She was starving.

“Who’s karma coming for?” she managed between bites.

That question was all Naomi needed—her inner gossip hound was unleashed.

Waving her phone, Naomi tapped a video. “Someone uploaded footage this morning—Fanny losing it and attacking a bouncer at O’Malley’s! She acted like she owned the place, totally trashing the guy in front of everyone. The internet is going nuts.”

“Then, not even an hour later, someone leaked a whole treasure trove of dirt on Aaron—bribery, corruption, you name it. His entire career’s in the toilet. We’re talking millions in dirty money, nine mistresses, ten kids stashed all over the place! And Fanny? Ha! She’s nothing.”

“The Lances are finished—three generations going down the drain. Everyone from the family’s been suspended and thrown under investigation.”

“And get this—Fanny’s mom finally pulled out that old divorce agreement she’d stashed away years ago. Perfect timing, right?”

“And the funniest part? Bridget. She’s been glued to her phone all morning, frantically deleting every post or selfie she ever took with Fanny. Her thumbs must be about to fall off.”

Naomi laughed, clapping her hands, looking at Sylvia with a mix of relief and amusement.

“Thank God you backed out yesterday. Now this whole dumpster fire has nothing to do with you.”

If Sylvia hadn’t dropped the lawsuit, not only would Fanny have dragged her into the mess, but the Garcias would’ve been caught in the crossfire too.

And then Tristan would have blamed Sylvia for everything—again.

Fanny.

She wasn’t so lucky tonight. The old diving board had been torn down, so instead, she’d been tossed off the roof.

Higher. Scarier.

“Ahhh!”

“I’m sorry! Please—I swear, I’m sorry! Glub… glub… I really am! Ahhh!”

Fanny was yanked up again, hanging by her ankles.

The sudden drop and rise had her so terrified, she wet herself.

Without warning, she was dropped into the cold, filthy water.

A man stood by the edge, cloaked in shadow, the tip of his cigarette glowing in the dark—dangerous and unreadable.

He stepped closer, his eyes cold as he watched Fanny thrash in the dirty pool.

“Then go ask her for mercy,” he said flatly, giving her words right back to her.