Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert) novel Chapter 407

“I know it’s hard to believe me right now—and that’s okay. We’ve got all the time in the world later.”

“Sylvia, don’t hate me. I never wanted to be this person, but I didn’t get a choice.”

Sylvia frowned, picking up on the hidden meaning in his words. “Who gave you a choice?”

Warren didn’t answer. Instead, he stood up, crossed over to her, and swapped her untouched steak for the one he’d already sliced.

“Eat. Don’t be stubborn. Uncle Rupert might let you have your tantrum, but not me. What I want, I get. And what I can’t have... I’d rather destroy than let anyone else—especially Rupert—get it.”

He smiled as he spoke, but there was nothing warm about it.

The way he cared for her was real, but so was his hatred for Rupert.

Sylvia glanced at his hand pressing down hard on her shoulder. “How am I supposed to eat like this? I’m not going anywhere, am I?”

Warren waved a hand at the bodyguard, who let her go.

He pushed the plate closer and gave her a warning look. “Sylvia, don’t try anything. No one knows where you are—not even Uncle Rupert. No one’s coming to save you.”

He ruffled her hair, not unkindly. “Be good. Just listen.”

Sylvia glared at him, pure fury in her eyes. But in the end, she sighed, picked up her knife and fork, and started eating.

She had to eat.

Where else was she going to get the strength she needed?

Seeing her finally comply, Warren relaxed.

But just as everyone was letting their guard down, Sylvia twisted the knife in her hand and slashed Warren across the cheek, the blade pressing right to his throat.

She didn’t hesitate—blood welled up where the knife cut.

Her voice was low and cold. “Listen, golden boy, I never said I was waiting for Uncle Rupert to save me. Tell your goons to back off!”

Warren raised a hand, signaling his bodyguard to stay put. He smirked. “Sylvia, did you forget? We’re on a plane. There’s nowhere to run.”

“Even on a plane, you can’t just fly anywhere. There’s a flight plan—you have to talk to the tower. Isn’t that right, Warren?”

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