Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert) novel Chapter 586

Any woman would have been moved by Lester’s words.

But Sylvia didn’t want to let herself be swayed so easily.

She smiled and shook her head. “Mr. Sanford, you really don’t have to say things like that. With your background, you’ll find someone more suitable.”

“Shouldn’t I be the one to decide who’s suitable for me?” Lester replied, his tone serious.

Sylvia met his gaze and, for a moment, didn’t know what to say.

He softened. “Alright, I won’t push. You’ve had a long day—get some rest.” He pointed at one of the files on the table. “That school looks promising.”

Sylvia glanced down and couldn’t help but let out a half-laugh, half-sigh. “Mr. Sanford, I know the Sanford family has branches all over this country.”

Lester grinned. “See? You know me better than you think.”

He always owned up to his little schemes so openly, never hiding his true intentions.

It was something Sylvia had never experienced before—such straightforward honesty.

As a child, growing up without a father, people had whispered, speculated she was illegitimate. She could never defend herself, so whenever anyone asked about her dad, she’d dodge the question, embarrassed and uncertain.

She was always afraid Naomi would be hurt, and she didn’t want others to look at her daughter differently.

Later, when she married Rupert, there was no wedding, no vows, not even a simple gold band. She was kept away from the world, tucked away in a big house with her daughter, as if she was meant to live in the shadows.

Her whole life, it seemed, she was only ever allowed to exist on the margins.

Even now, she still caught herself wanting to hide.

Sylvia looked at Lester and managed a genuine smile. “Thank you.”

Lester just nodded and left quietly.

Sylvia sat back on the couch, staring down at the papers in her hands, feeling a swirl of complicated emotions.

A few minutes later, she heard someone fiddling with the lock at the front door. She hesitated, surprised.

She thought maybe Lester had forgotten something and come back.

But as she got up to answer, she paused.

If it was Lester, he’d just knock. Why was someone trying to unlock the door?

Unless…

Sylvia peered through the peephole—and sure enough, it was him.

But who was he to tell her who she could talk to?

Irritated and upset, Sylvia clenched her fists, Reese’s constant warnings echoing in her mind—like a wife warning the mistress to back off.

And the person who’d pushed her into this position was Rupert himself.

“And besides… the person you should be worried about isn’t me. It’s Reese.”

For a moment, there was silence outside.

Sylvia thought he’d left. Cautiously, she leaned close to the peephole for another look.

His Adam’s apple bobbed. His lips moved. Maybe he said something.

But Sylvia didn’t catch a word.

When she blinked, he’d already turned away, the tail of his coat sweeping quietly down the hall.