Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert) novel Chapter 486

Sylvia stood outside the brightly lit mansion, her hand halfway to the doorbell before she let it fall to her side.

Would it really be him?

As she hesitated, the door swung open and Orson stepped out onto the porch.

“Ms. Lloyd, Mr. Rupert is expecting you.”

“Expecting me? He knew I was coming?” Sylvia’s brows shot up in surprise.

Orson didn’t answer, just gestured her inside.

She lingered for a moment, torn, but finally followed him in, her heart thudding as the familiar house came into view—closer than she’d been in years.

A storm of conflicting feelings churned inside her, pulling her in all directions.

If Rupert was the one who’d saved her… what on earth was she supposed to say?

Lost in thought, she barely realized she was standing in the foyer. The place hadn’t changed—same old English antiques, the scent of lemon polish and woodsmoke. She barely had a chance to look around before a man’s footsteps echoed from the staircase behind her.

She balled her fists, steeling herself, and turned.

Rupert must’ve stepped out from the shower—damp hair, a black silk robe hanging open over his chest, skin still glistening with steam.

His movements were easy, relaxed. No sign of injury—no gunshot wound, not even a scratch from a scuffle.

Sylvia froze, her heart caught in her throat—then suddenly, it plummeted.

She should be relieved it wasn’t Rupert; that way, she owed him nothing.

But… somehow, there was an ache she couldn’t put into words. She took a deep breath and forced her face into a calm mask.

“Uncle Rupert.”

“Take a seat.”

Rupert tied his robe loosely as he sat, a cigarette already between his fingers.

Click.

The lighter’s flame flickered, casting his sharp features in a pale glow.

Smoke drifted toward her, snapping Sylvia out of her daze. She shook her head. “No, thanks. I won’t keep you up.”

She turned to leave.

His voice stopped her cold, icy as winter air.

“Think your mom can keep waiting?”

Sylvia spun, disbelief etched on her face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You tell me.”

Rupert looked up, eyes hard, toying with the lighter in his hand.

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