Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert)
Chapter 115

At some point, Rupert had managed to slip off her shoes and socks.

"Hey, what are you doing? This is really uncomfortable!"

Sylvia instinctively pulled her foot away, but to her surprise, he didn't hesitate to grab her bare foot. The warmth of his palm was almost overwhelming, searing against her skin. Despite her reluctance to admit it, her body betrayed her, responding to the unexpected comfort. The sensation was so soothing that her toes curled involuntarily.

Rupert held her foot, his fingertips rubbing against the top of her foot with a firmness that was both painful and ticklish.

He teased, "Uncomfortable?"

Sylvia bit her lip, silent.

Rupert fetched a spray from the first-aid kit and sprayed it a few times on her slightly reddened ankle, then applied a bandage. Sylvia watched him silently, puzzled by his actions.

Suddenly, a lightbulb went off in her head.

Bridget! Rupert had promised Bridget he'd stop the recording from spreading.

Almost as soon as she made the connection, the man in front of her spoke up. His voice was deep, devoid of any warmth.

"Sylvia, holding onto that recording won't do you any favors."

Suddenly, a chill ran through Sylvia, and even the warmth that had just enveloped her faded into cold. She looked down at the man kneeling before her- strikingly handsome, yet utterly impassive. It felt as though they were negotiating a business deal, one he was sure to win.

Whether it was the ointment sinking into her skin or something else, the pain in her ankle was sharp enough to bring beads of sweat to her forehead.

She bit her inner lip, saying softly, "So?"

Rupert looked up, meeting her gaze from his lower position. Even so, his daunting presence made it hard for Sylvia to breathe. His eyes, encircled with a halo of light, were deep and dangerous. "Destroy it."

It wasn't a question, it was a command.

After speaking, he casually took a disinfectant wipe to clean his hands, as if he was certain Sylvia would comply.

"Do you have any idea what that recording means to me? If Bridget dares to act this way today, what's to stop her tomorrow? If I don't protect myself..." "She won't." Rupert frowned, cutting her off.

Sylvia's breath hitched, realizing there was no point in continuing. She tried to control her emotions, her voice soft, "I can't delete it! Thanks for the help. I'm leaving."

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She quickly slipped on her shoes and socks. As she stood, the flower pinned in her hair almost fell out. She reached up to adjust it. It was such aminor gesture, yet it seemed to irritate Rupert. He reached out to remove it.

Slap!

Sylvia swatted his hand away, the sound echoing through the living room. She tried to dart past him, but Rupert moved faster. He caught her from behind, his arm wrapping around her like steel. His hand found the pulse at her neck, tapping lightly on the artery.

Sylvia stiffened, fearing his next move might be fatal.

The man pressed closer, his hot breath on her ear.

"How many times? Your temper seems to worsen. I warned you to stay away from Warren. Is he really that great?"

His oppressive presence felt like vines wrapping tightly around Sylvia, as if a wrong answer would devour her entirely.

But this time, Sylvia refused to be forced into saying what she didn't mean. She shouted, "Yes! Warren is great! Really great! Exceptionally great... Ah!"

Her voice abruptly turned into a shriek, her body immobilized.

Rupert, that madman, had actually...