Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert) novel Chapter 362

Private Dining Room.

Everyone could see how much Mr. Lennon admired Sylvia. Each time someone new walked in, he’d introduce her, practically beaming with pride.

So yeah, Sylvia was definitely the center of attention tonight.

Halfway through dinner, Sylvia’s phone suddenly started buzzing.

She glanced at the screen—Orson was calling.

Hesitating for a few seconds, Sylvia finally excused herself with a quick, “I need to use the restroom,” and slipped out of the private room.

She answered as soon as she got into the hallway. “Orson? What’s up?”

“Ms. Lloyd, you need to get to Mr. Rupert’s room. He—”

Clattering—static—then nothing but interference, like something heavy had just crashed down, and then the line went dead.

Sylvia froze for a split second, then spun on her heel and bolted for the elevator.

She quickly realized her heels were slowing her down, so she kicked them off and dashed barefoot into the elevator.

She hadn’t seen the cigarette someone had dropped and left burning on the elevator floor.

“Shit!” she yelped, hopping as the hot ash burned her foot, and then—of course—the elevator doors caught her on the hip as she stumbled in.

But she didn’t have time to care. Gritting her teeth, she slammed her floor number and waited, bouncing in pain.

She half-ran, half-limped all the way to Rupert’s room, then pounded on the door with all her might.

It finally swung open—but it wasn’t Rupert.

It was Bridget.

Bridget was wrapped in a silk robe, but she hadn’t bothered tying it, so her nightgown was on full display for anyone to see.

“Nightgown” was being generous. It was really just lingerie—a deep V of floral lace that barely covered anything, with a skirt of see-through mesh.

Bridget noticed Sylvia’s shocked look, and only then did she slowly tie her robe, feigning surprise. “Oh, sorry! I was in such a hurry to answer the door, I forgot to tie this. You looking for Mr. Rupert? He’s in the shower.”

Sylvia’s gaze dropped and she noticed water running down Bridget’s legs. Clearly, she’d also just come from the bathroom.

As for what they’d been doing—Sylvia didn’t want to think about it.

“It’s nothing,” Sylvia managed after swallowing hard three times.

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