Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert)

Chapter 86

Bridget's cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of red, her eyes brimming with tears she dared not let fall. But she couldn't let her anger show. Instead, she tried to muster a look of hurt and reached out for Rupert.

Rupert, nonchalantly adjusting his cuff, sidestepped her hand with an air of indifference.

"Rupert, I am your fiancée," Bridget said, her eyes welling with tears.

Rupert gave her a fleeting glance, his tone cool. "Ah, fiancée. Not yet a wife."

Bridget's face fell, frozen in place.

He leaned in slightly. "You're still an outsider. Sylvia is legally Ms. Garcia of the Garcia family. Even at her worst, she's not someone to be trifled with by outsiders. We both know what's really going on between us." With that, Rupert shoved a queue number slip into Bridget's hand and walked away.

Bridget stared after him in disbelief, her heart refusing to give up. She attempted to follow Rupert but was blocked by Orson.

"Ms. Simpson, please take a seat."

"Rupert... Rupert..."

Unable to push past Orson, Bridget clenched her teeth and reluctantly sat back down. Looking down, she noticed the queue number slip Rupert had given her was blank! She had to bear the pain while waiting there! Fuming and trembling with frustration, she had no choice but to make another appointment to see the doctor.

...

again, reaching out for Naomi

called out,

took hers. "Sylvia, I

voice, Sylvia

"Warren, you came? How?"

there was any trouble. And yet, I had

blinked in

expose those three, but she hadn't intended for her roommate to actually post it online. She'd wanted to keep things low-key and let the police handle it. She hadn't expected the

video didn't reveal your name. I only recognized you by your voice." "And what's

have backfired spectacularly. They're being boycotted online, losing contracts, and heading toward ruin. Several women they've wronged.

nodded, processing the information. Suddenly, she

"What did you bring?"

pot pie, your favorite. Brought some for you." "Thanks." Sylvia reached out to take the bowl, but Warren gently pulled

passed by, tossing

the corridor, his

of chicken pot pie left. Should

"No need."

...

only half the chicken pot

must be late.