Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert)

Chapter 141

The heavy thud of one colleague hitting the ground made Sylvia's heart leap into her throat. Her eyes shot up, locking with the teasing gaze of the man advancing towards her. His cold presence made it hard to breathe. "Quite the catch?" The mocking undertone in his deep voice was hard to miss.

It was Rupert.

Sylvia wriggled her wrists, knowing she stood no chance of overpowering him. This time, she decided to be smart about it - instead of using her hands, she went for a kick.

But Rupert anticipated her move, capturing her raised leg with ease and pulling her close to him.

Her body brushed against his belt buckle, separated only by a thin layer of fabric. The proximity, combined with the overwhelming sense of powerlessness, sent a wave of humiliation through her. "Let go!"

"You're heartless," Rupert remarked, his voice husky.

"I don't need you to handle my problems. I can take care of myself!"

Just then, Freya and the others caught up.

Sylvia glanced at the dark, enclosed alley and listened to the approaching footsteps, her heart pounding like thunder.

As Freya and the group drew near, Rupert kicked the man on the ground into the shadows, grabbed Sylvia's chin, and kissed her.

"Mmph!" Sylvia's eyes widened.

Rupert, supporting her head, turned his body to shield hers.

to stroll and date. The soft glow of warm yellow streetlights, walls covered in greenery, and quaint shops lent the area a nostalgic, romantic charm. The occasional dark corner where

just another couple.

pushed the man in

an old streetlight flickered to life, its warm glow illuminating the man's

fleeting golden halo around him. His gaze tightened as it met hers, his lashes

she could catch her next breath, Sylvia elbowed the man in the chest. Although it numbed her arm, the

body, imposing and stern under the glow, contrasted with his face, now obscured by

and low, "And how do you plan to handle

spine, her

so powerful, yet you still hassle Warren? He was just helping me!

Why are you treating him like

the shadowed face, full of

ket

as if he might drop the burning ember onto Sylvia's skin under the

took a

"Worried about him?"

QUMS

generosity to let us be," Sylvia said, barely containing her

"Us?"

force, almost in sync with

descended, wrapping them in a stifling

fingertips brushing her face, his tobacco-tinged breath warm and heavy

spoke gravely, "Say what you will,