Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert)

When Chris finally saw the helmet clearly, he froze on the spot.

It was unmistakable. He'd had this exact helmet custom-made for Caleb Lennon. His own handwriting still adorned the side: "Ride Safe."

But Caleb was supposed to be recovering from an injury. What was his helmet doing here?

Confused, Chris stepped closer-then was stopped short by unmistakable sounds coming from inside the room.

He started to turn away, embarrassment prickling his skin-only to catch a glimpse of the woman's face on the bed.

Bridget.

Rage burned through him. Chris clenched the hotel keycard in his fist, ready to storm in. But instead, he forced himself to back out of the room quietly, shutting the door without a sound.

Rupert had given him this keycard for a reason to avoid causing a scene.noveldrama

...

Hospital Room.

Rupert barely glanced up when Chris walked in, as if he'd been expecting him. He pulled out a pack of Marlboros, offered one to Chris.

Chris stared at him, bitterness in his eyes, then took the cigarette. Even his hands shook as he tried-and failed-to flick the lighter.

Rupert wordlessly leaned over and lit it for him.

Chris didn't smoke much; the first drag made him cough hard. He swallowed the ache and muttered, "How long have you known?"

Rupert exhaled, voice flat: "Since their first hotel hookup."

Chris's eyes widened. "That was-?"

"The first time they ever met."

Chris coughed again, this time from shock.

Caleb had always been a wild card, trouble with women since high school. But Bridget? She was a well-bred girl, the type you'd expect to see at Sunday brunch with her parents, not sneaking around hotels. And she was supposed to be Rupert's fiancée-what the hell was going on?

Rupert seemed to read his mind. "People can fake anything if they want it bad enough."

Chris looked at Rupert, guilt twisting inside him. "Sorry, man."

Rupert just shrugged. "Don't worry about it. Bridget and I... it was always just business. I owed her, that's all."

"What kind of business?" Chris pressed, suspicious.

Rupert flicked ash into a paper cup. "That's a story for another time. Right now, we've got bigger problems."

"Like what?"

Rupert dropped a used syringe onto the table between them. It clattered loudly.

"Three strikes and you're out, Chris. Next time, I'm not cleaning up after your brother."

Chris stared at the syringe, crushing his cigarette in his shaking hand. His face was ashen.

"I'll take him home tomorrow," Chris said quietly.

...

The next morning, Sylvia signed her discharge papers.

Before leaving, she dropped by to check on Mrs. Carter and her family. The Carters had finally gotten the compensation they deserved, and Mr. Carter-thanks to quick medical care-was awake and recovering.

Sylvia was genuinely happy for them and left a little extra cash for good measure.

Back at the hotel, Eloise was already waiting by her door.

"Glad to see you're alright," Eloise said, warmth in her voice. "Thank you, Ms. Eloise."

"There's a celebration dinner tonight. Mr. Lennon's really impressed with you and asked for you specifically Don't miss it-these chances don't come often. We leave for Kingstoria

first thing in the morning," Eloise said.

"Of course," Sylvia replied.

After a brief chat, Eloise headed back to her room.

That evening, Sylvia showed up ten minutes early at the hotel's ground-floor restaurant, only to find Eloise already there alone.

"Where's Bridget?"

"She's not coming. Mr. Rupert wants her to stay with him tonight."

Sylvia paused, her expression flickering, but then she smiled and followed Eloise inside.

As they crossed the lobby, Sylvia spotted Tristan heading into the elevator.

Does that mean Rupert's out of the hospital, too?

...

Penthouse Suite.

Rupert sat hunched over a stack of paperwork at the dining table. A steaming

bowl of chicken noodle soup landed in front of him.

"Father and son shouldn't hold

grudges overnight," Tristan said, settling into the chair across from

him. "Thad

them use fresh

herbs-just like Grandma used to

make. Drink while it's hot."

Rupert set his files aside and gave the soup a stir.

The aroma of chicken and thyme mingled in the air. The broth was clear, rich-

you could tell someone had simmered it for hours.

"The mining deal's wrapped up. The team will handle the rest. I'm heading back tomorrow," Rupert said.

"Is work all we can talk about?" Tristan asked quietly.

"What do you want to talk about, Dad?" Rupert replied, sipping his soup.

Tristan hesitated. "You and Bridget... you've been together for years. Maybe it's time to think about settling down."