Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert)

Reese shook her head quickly, looking at Rupert. "I didn't save Mr. Rupert

because I wanted anything in return. Honestly, it wouldn't have mattered who was in that car-I'd have done the same thing."

She wasn't saying it just to sound good; it was simply the truth.

Tristan nodded at her with clear approval. "Reese, Rupert's lucky to know you."

She blushed, awkwardly ducking a little closer to Rupert's side. "You say stuff like that and I don't even know how to answer!"

Everyone in the room could see how she felt-and no one seemed to mind.

Sure, she'd lost part of her leg, but it was for Rupert's sake.

If the Garcias married her in, even if she was just a figurehead, the family would gain a reputation for kindness. Not to mention, Reese's own family was powerful -uniting their families would make them even stronger.

Reese glanced up at Rupert's sharp profile, her eyes full of hope, wishing he'd say something-anything.

But Rupert just nodded politely and offered her a fruit platter. "Have some fruit."

She felt a twinge of disappointment, but it had been a long time since they'd seen each other. Maybe it made sense to take things slow.

So, she smiled and took a bite of melon.

Tristan noticed it all, his eyes briefly clouding with annoyance.

He shot Rupert a subtle look and said, "Rupert, it's Reese's first time here. Show her around a bit later, alright?"

Reese's face brightened. "I'd love to see where you grew up!"

Rupert just gave a short nod. "Take your time with the fruit. I'll be back-bathroom break."

Sylvia didn't head back to the kitchen. Instead, she slipped out to the garden to get some air.

But standing among the roses and hydrangeas, carefully arranged by Naomi, didn't help. If anything, it made her chest feel even tighter.noveldrama

Suddenly, it all clicked. She understood why Tristan had called her back, and why Naomi was in charge of the family dinner.

Embarrassment. Humiliation. Outsider.

Those words fit her and her daughter perfectly right now.

Tristan loved these little power plays. He never got tired of them. Sylvia took a deep breath; the chilly air helped steady her nerves. She turned to leave-only to find someone blocking her path. She didn't have to look up to know who it was.

Without a word, she tried to walk past the man, heading back toward the kitchen. But she'd barely taken a step when his hand closed around her wrist.

She struggled, glaring at Rupert. "Are you really going to make a scene out here?"

He raised an eyebrow, the word "scene” hanging in the air with extra weight.

Sylvia glanced at the maids bustling under the porch and stopped fighting. "Uncle Rupert, if you have something to say, just say it. Let go."

He didn't

openeet go. Instead, he gently r clenched fist, inspectiet

the scraped skin oefe

finger.

"You're so tough with me, but you're all sweetness with everyone else. Why?"

"I'm fine." She tried to pull away, but

Rupert's grip tightened just

enough

to pull her back in front of him.

He fished a Band-Aid out of his pocket and carefully wrapped it around her finger.

"Did you drink the soup I had made for you?" he asked suddenly. "You're still always cold."

Sylvia froze. Wait, was that soup Naomi brought her actually from Rupert?

She didn't know what to make of him, but she nodded. "Yeah."

Then Rupert held out his hand. "Well? You owe me something."

"What?"

She knew he meant the scarf, but she decided to play dumb.

"The thing you were hiding behind your back earlier,” Rupert said, eyes narrowed.

So he'd seen everything, but done nothing.

Just then, Sylvia caught sight of one of the maids, rolling the kitchen

garbage out back. The corner nee

her

scarf's packaging peeked out from

the trash can.

She lifted her chin, voice cold. "It's over there. If you hurry, Uncle Rupert, you might still fish it out."