Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert)
Chapter 47

Tristan had never been particularly fond of Bridget's background. However, thankfully, Bridget had a good reputation and image, a far better companion for Rupert than the other messy figures he'd been seen with. But at the press conference, Bridget had been a major letdown.

Rupert's face remained stoic, his responses chillingly indifferent.

"Yeah."

After the brief exchange, they left together.

Moments later, Bridget emerged from behind a decorative rockery, her hands twisting the hem of her dress almost to breaking point out of anxiety.

She was determined to win!

...

Naomi had offered Sylvia to stay the night, but Sylvia declined. The Garcia Manor held nothing but bad memories for her. It reminded her of the scorn she faced in her past life, and of her poor daughter.

So, as dusk approached, she left. But she'd hardly gotten far when a sudden gale picked up, the sky turned a foreboding gray as if ready to unleash a deluge.

Sylvia quickened her pace, but before she could get far, the heavens opened up, soaking her through.

Suddenly, the sound of screeching brakes came from behind, and she turned, shielding her head with her hands.

A man stepped out of his car, quickly approaching Sylvia with a black umbrella in hand, revealing his handsome features as he did.

"Sylvia."

"Warren, why are you here?" Sylvia was slightly surprised.

"I went to see Uncle Edwin, heard from your mom you'd left, didn't you know about the storm?"

"I...I didn't notice," Sylvia admitted sheepishly.

Warren sighed softly, tilting the umbrella towards Sylvia as they locked eyes.

Her hair dripping, her beautiful face slightly pale but her lips strikingly vivid, exuded a fragile allure. Her clothes, clinging to her from the rain, outlined her figure perfectly. Warren glanced at her only for a moment before his breath hitched, and he quickly averted his gaze, pulling out a handkerchief to dab at her face.

"Let me take you home, don't catch a cold."

"Thank you."

Knowing she couldn't possibly take the subway in her current state, Sylvia agreed.

As they turned, a car slowly passed by, its slightly ajar window revealing two figures. Rupert and Bridget.

Bridget appeared almost clingy, as if in the midst of a passionate kiss with Rupert.

How impatient!

Sylvia felt a wave of disgust, feeling uncomfortable as if she got bitten by a bug today. Just as Rupert turned to look their way, Sylvia tugged at Warren's sleeve. "Warren, let's go."

"Alright."

The two walked towards the car without looking back, Sylvia feeling a stiffness in her spine under a certain gaze.

The black luxury car tore through the rainy night like a sharp bolt of lightning, adding a tinge of dangerous and cold beauty to the man's handsome face.

Inside the car, the temperature seemed to drop, Bridget breathed lightly, cautiously turning to the man beside her. She slowly reached out, her delicate fingers sliding over his dark pants, hinting at the unfinished business between them. Bridget leaned in closer, her fingertips tracing circles at the edge. She had been so close to kissing Rupert earlier.

If only Sylvia hadn't interfered!

Just as her hand neared his thigh, Rupert caught her wrist. He didn't even look at her as he spoke to Orson, "Stop the car ahead, you take her home." "Yes, Mr. Garcia."

"Where are you going?" Bridget asked, her voice betraying her anxiety. Rupert glanced at her emotionlessly and said simply, "Have things to do."

Bridget watched him leave, unable to hide her bitterness any longer.