Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert) novel Chapter 74

In the cozy corner of a quaint diner, Sylvia's eyes lit up as the waiter laid out an array of dishes, all her favorites. She looked at Warren across from her, full of emotion. "I can't believe you remembered."

Warren ladled a serving of soup into her bowl, his smile gentle. "Of course, I remember. You're quite the foodie, aren't you? Just too shy to indulge when we're at home."

As Sylvia gazed at the steaming bowl before her, a wave of sentiment washed over her. She couldn't help but admire the man sitting across from her, so kind and considerate. Yet, she was painfully aware of the grim fate that awaited him—a fate orchestrated by none other than Rupert.

Rupert, with his ruthless demeanor, was determined to ensure Warren's downfall, banishing him and his mother Fiona to a distant land from which he could never return. Even Fiona's dying wish to return to her roots was coldly denied by him.

In her past life, Sylvia had been under Rupert's tight control, her knowledge fragmented and incomplete. It was only by overhearing a conversation outside his study that she learned of his vendetta against Warren.

Concerned, she warned Warren, "Warren, whatever happens, try not to cross Rupert. Just look out for yourself and Mrs. Fiona."

Warren paused, his eyes searching hers. "Sylvia, do you know something?"

She shook her head hastily, feigning ignorance. "How could I know anything? I don't understand business matters. I just...think Uncle Rupert seems a bit intimidating. I wouldn't want you to upset him."

She nervously fabricated an excuse, worrying that Warren might become suspicious of her.

Warren let out a soft laugh, but his smile quickly faded within three seconds. He dropped his fork immediately, stood up, and respectfully greeted, "Uncle."

Sylvia cursed her luck under her breath. It seemed impossible to avoid him, even in a city as vast as Kingstoria.

Feeling a surge of discomfort, she reluctantly stood up, keeping her gaze low, and stared at the pair of polished men's leather shoes in front of her before addressing him, "Uncle."

With a curt acknowledgment, Rupert left as quickly as he had arrived, allowing Sylvia to breathe a sigh of relief. Her fear of Rupert was deep-seated, not easily forgotten.