Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert) novel Chapter 370

Wedding Favors?

Sylvia stared blankly at the box in front of her.

It was shaped like a music box, every detail showing off beautiful hand-crafted work.

If the packaging was already this impressive, whatever was inside must be even more extravagant.

In a daze, she watched as Bridget swept in, draped in a loose, ivory cashmere dress that somehow made her glow. It was the kind of soft, elegant look that would belong in a fall catalog.

Bridget gently placed a hand on her not-yet-there belly, smiling playfully. "Sylvia, did you catch the news today? Mr. Rupert and I are tying the knot! Mainly because Mr. Rupert knows how much I care about looking good and he’s worried I’ll outgrow my wedding dress if we wait too long."

She gestured at the little boxes scattered on the breakroom table.

"The moment we announced our engagement, all these brands started sending over wedding favors for me to choose from. I honestly can’t pick, so I figured I’d let everyone help me out."

She turned to Sylvia, holding out the prettiest box. "This one’s for you. It’s the priciest—Mr. Rupert picked it out himself."

Bridget beamed and nudged the favor into Sylvia’s hands.

Sylvia didn’t react fast enough. The box slipped and hit the floor with a soft thud. The delicate shell split apart, and a tiny bottle of luxury perfume shattered, the scent flooding the office—overwhelming, floral, and sharp enough to make Sylvia’s lingering hangover churn.

"Oh my gosh!"

Bridget gasped and immediately reached for Sylvia’s wrist.

Startled by her outburst, Sylvia instinctively pulled away. Bridget stumbled backward, bumping into the table. She clutched her stomach, her voice trembling, "Sylvia, why’d you push me? I was just worried you’d get hurt by the glass."

The rest of the office swarmed around Bridget, fussing over her.

"Are you okay, Bridget?"

"I’m fine, really," Bridget insisted with a pained little smile, "It was just an accident. Sylvia didn’t mean it."

But someone shot Sylvia a sharp look and muttered, "Seriously, you should at least apologize. Bridget’s carrying Mr. Rupert’s baby, and the gift she gave you was the most expensive one. That perfume alone costs thousands."

Accusatory eyes turned on Sylvia from all around the room.

Bridget alone sat quietly, stroking her belly, her lips curved in a subtle, unreadable smile.

"What’s going on in here? Don’t you people have work to do?"

Eloise strode in—no-nonsense, as always. The crowd scattered.

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