Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert) novel Chapter 334

Sylvia froze, not quite sure what Rupert meant.

It almost sounded like he was asking for a label—like he wanted to define their relationship or something.

But how could there even be a label between them?

He was in love with Bridget. To him, Sylvia was just someone to use.

She was the kind of person he’d sacrifice without a second thought.

Sylvia felt her chest tighten. Her voice came out cold: “Oh, right. I forgot. You’re my Uncle Rupert.”

Rupert’s eyes narrowed, shadows swirling in their depths. Suddenly, he lost his patience and grabbed the back of her head, pulling her into a rough, punishing kiss.

Their breaths tangled, the air between them turning electric and wild. She barely had time to resist before her strength gave out and all she could do was let him take what he wanted. A low, helpless sound escaped her throat.

“Mmm…”

Rupert’s breathing hitched. He gripped her waist, his voice gravelly, almost desperate: “Sylvia, you’re going to drive me insane.”

She frowned, about to protest, but her back hit the wall, making her flinch in pain.

“Ah—”

Rupert let out an exasperated sigh and gently pulled her down to sit. “Turn around. Let me put something on that cut.”

Sylvia wanted to say no, but her body just gave in and she sat down, exhausted.

Rupert grabbed some disinfectant from the table and dabbed it on the scrape along her back.

It was a surface wound, nothing serious.

But Rupert’s eyes only grew darker.

Sylvia’s skin was flawless—smooth, not a blemish in sight, so perfect it was almost unreal. Now there was a thin line of blood marring the picture.

Rupert pulled out his phone and shot off a message to Orson.

Don’t hold back.

Sylvia, sensing his pause behind her, fumbled with her torn shirt. “Are you done yet?”

A moment later, something warm landed on her shoulders—a jacket. She recognized it immediately: it was the same one Rupert had draped over Bridget earlier that day.

Without thinking, she shrugged it off and handed it back. “I’m fine. Not cold.”

Rupert’s brows drew together, but when he saw how pale she looked, something seemed to click.

“Keep digging,” Rupert said, exhaling a stream of smoke. “The cops are here. Clean everything up.”

“Yes, sir.”

...

Back in the dining room.

Sylvia slipped back into her seat, trying to look as casual as possible.

But before she could even get comfortable, the door burst open and uniformed officers stepped in.

“Freeze! Everyone up, step away from the table!”

The group jumped, startled, but seeing it was the police, they obediently stood and moved aside.

Sylvia blended in, standing quietly at the back of the crowd.

Eloise recovered first, stepping forward. “Officers, is there a problem? We’re just having dinner.”