Chapter 10

They'd built a private park that surrounded the estate, which, on rare occasions, would open its gates for public events. Yet, there was no subway lines, bus routes, even taxis were barely spotted.

Sylvia's quickest route to a train station was a solid twenty-minute walk away.

She battled against the chilly breeze under the streetlights. She had only been walking for a few minutes when the blare of a car horn approached her. Instinctively, she stepped aside, but to her surprise, the vehicle pulled up right next to her. "Ms. Lloyd, please get in."

A familiar face jutted out as the car window rolled down. It was Orson, Rupert's assistant.

Sylvia was stunned for a moment, her gaze flickering to the backseat where she caught sight of a hand adorned with a red-stoned ring tapping impatiently on a knee. Rupert.

She wanted nothing more to do with him, shaking her head, "No thanks. Drive safe."

Pulling her backpack closer, she continued on her way, while Orson swiftly got out from behind and blocked her path.

decent smile, he invited softly, "Ms. Lloyd, please get in the car, it's for your own good. Mr. Garcia mentioned it wouldn't look good for you to be seen lugging your suitcase around. If you refuse, I'm afraid I'll have to insist in my way." Sylvia clutched her backpack, gazing over the dark car window

in her previous life and had no illusions about the lengths he

was finally able to live her second

a nod, she moved towards the passenger side, only to be ushered

in, she immediately noticed the strong scent of alcohol filling the car. Glancing over suspiciously, she saw Rupert's imposing figure reclined in the seat, his eyes half-close, his face partially hidden in

devoid of emotion but weighed heavily on Sylvia's heart. After quite a while, she finally recognized the feeling, extraordinarily similar to the piece he'd say as punishing her in the previous

It was Naomi.

Naomi would likely chastise her for not seizing the opportunity. However, Rupert's gaze fixed on her, his brow furrowed, leading her to answer the call

Are you trying to give me a heart attack? Have I ever wronged you to make you run away like this?" Naomi's voice broke with desperation, each word revealing her helplessness. She, too, was aware of her being unable to

"Sylvia, maybe...I should ask your stepfather to set you up on a blind date. It's better to have a man to rely on than to

peripheral vision, unable to decipher his reaction. But she had already become uneasy, attempting to end

"Don't try to play dumb. I'm doing this for your own good. Let's

I've got

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