Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert)

Chapter 142

After escaping, Sylvia didn't dare stay at any hotel near the campus. Instead, she chose one closer to the studio.

Before getting into her ride, she glanced back at the intersection.

A luxury car pulled up. Rupert, clad in black, emerged from the corner and got into the vehicle.

As the car pulled away, a sliver of window lowered, revealing a pair of eyes. They stared at Sylvia with dangerous glint, sharp even in the dim light. It felt as if they were telling her she could never escape.

A shiver ran down Sylvia's spine, and she didn't look back as she left.

Meanwhile, Orson also got into a car.

"Mr. Rupert, Ms. Lloyd reported those guys for DUI, and she mentioned Freya's name as well."

Rupert, sitting in the backseat, slowly twisted his ruby ring and raised an eyebrow.

"She's gotten smart now. With her old temper, anyone could have taken advantage of her. She's... better off hidden away."

Orson frowned, cautiously adding, "Is Ms. Lloyd..."

"Hmm?" Rupert's cold interruption made Orson realize he had said too much, and he quickly changed the subject. "Bailey wants to meet you at Camellia Manor tomorrow."

"Got it."

...

early, eager not to

she headed to the

out, she heard the

pants, could you? If it weren't for you, my husband wouldn't have

made her way through the onlookers and saw Freya on the floor, her hair clutched tightly in another woman's grip. Her stilettos raised down on her, each kick with relentless fury. Even

the ground, crying and trembling, without putting up a

a college

students might have

was the workplace, where people avoided getting involved in matters that

wasn't until security came that the woman

seething, the woman pointed at Freya and accused, "This bitch had my husband take her out for dinner, tried to seduce him, and when

thought hiding your phone number would keep me from finding out? They said

it all wrong.

invite me. It

Sylvia, then tearfully added, "Sylvia, even though

lie for you anymore.

met last night, and it's your fault they got caught for

help

scratched and pitiful face radiated an air of reluctant grievance, her performance strikingly convincing.

particular, cast resentful glares

offering a polite nod to the accusing

they said it was a colleague's dinner, but had