Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert)
Chapter 10

They'd built a private park that surrounded the estate, which, on rare occasions, would open its gates for public events. Yet, there was no subway lines, bus routes, even taxis were barely spotted.

Sylvia's quickest route to a train station was a solid twenty-minute walk away.

She battled against the chilly breeze under the streetlights. She had only been walking for a few minutes when the blare of a car horn approached her. Instinctively, she stepped aside, but to her surprise, the vehicle pulled up right next to her. "Ms. Lloyd, please get in."

A familiar face jutted out as the car window rolled down. It was Orson, Rupert's assistant.

Sylvia was stunned for a moment, her gaze flickering to the backseat where she caught sight of a hand adorned with a red-stoned ring tapping impatiently on a knee. Rupert.

She wanted nothing more to do with him, shaking her head, "No thanks. Drive safe."

Pulling her backpack closer, she continued on her way, while Orson swiftly got out from behind and blocked her path.

With a polite and decent smile, he invited softly, "Ms. Lloyd, please get in the car, it's for your own good. Mr. Garcia mentioned it wouldn't look good for you to be seen lugging your suitcase around. If you refuse, I'm afraid I'll have to insist in my way." Sylvia clutched her backpack, gazing over the dark car window on the back seat, which was hard to discern, but she knew Rupert was watching her.

Known in Kingstoria for his ruthlessness, she had seen it in her previous life and had no illusions about the lengths he would go to enforce his will.

The cold realization sank in, and Sylvia only felt chilly all over; she was finally able to live her second chance at life and had no desire to challenge Rupert's fury once again.

With a nod, she moved towards the passenger side, only to be ushered into the backseat by Orson.

Settling in, she immediately noticed the strong scent of alcohol filling the car. Glancing over suspiciously, she saw Rupert's imposing figure reclined in the seat, his eyes half-close, his face partially hidden in shadow under the dim light, exuding danger and austerity. Rupert lifted his eyelids, saying blandly, "Leaving already?"

His voice was devoid of emotion but weighed heavily on Sylvia's heart. After quite a while, she finally recognized the feeling, extraordinarily similar to the piece he'd say as punishing her in the previous life with a "want to leave, huh? Not that easy" kind of tone. Suppressing her resentment, Sylvia budged away. Before she could muster a response, her phone rang.

It was Naomi.

Sylvia wasn't eager to answer, knowing Naomi would likely chastise her for not seizing the opportunity. However, Rupert's gaze fixed on her, his brow furrowed, leading her to answer the call without a choice.

"Sylvia! Are you trying to give me a heart attack? Have I ever wronged you to make you run away like this?" Naomi's voice broke with desperation, each word revealing her helplessness. She, too, was aware of her being unable to protect her daughter. "Mom, I'll take care of myself."

"Just...be careful," Naomi sighed, conceding to the inevitable. "Sylvia, maybe...I should ask your stepfather to set you up on a blind date. It's better to have a man to rely on than to be out there alone. Your stepfather sure can find someone suitable for you." Naomi started lecturing her again.

Sylvia glanced at Rupert with her peripheral vision, unable to decipher his reaction. But she had already become uneasy, attempting to end the call swiftly.

Naomi, on the other hand, uttered firmly, "Don't try to play dumb. I'm doing this for your own good. Let's settle it then, you'll go meet with someone in a few days."

""Mom! I've got to go."

Sylvia hung up after that.

In her previous life, Naomi had indeed tried to arrange blind dates for her, but everything fell apart after her entanglement with Rupert surfaced.

She wondered if Rupert had overheard they mentioning his name; even if he had, he wouldn't care less.

Yet, the car fell into an oppressive silence. The streetlamps were separated by the branches, its fragmented light going through the car window, casting shadows over Rupert's well-defined profile. Sylvia felt on edge, her hands gripping tightly together until Rupert's voice, tinged with amusement, came.

"A blind date? Sylvia, was there a single truth in what you said last night?"