Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert)

Chapter 145

Especially since sitting across from Sylvia was Rupert.

He was lounging back, legs crossed, his long index finger pressed against his forehead, looking at her with an amused gaze. Immediately, Sylvia looked down to find the button on her seat, hoping to swivel it toward the driving position.

Instead, she accidentally activated the massage function, and the buzzing sound filled the car, leaving her in utter embarrassment. Frantically searching for the button, she felt a pair of hands casually rest on her armrest, his body leaning slightly towards her.

A fresh scent wafted over, and she immediately leaned back, avoiding getting any closer to the man. But their eyes met unavoidably. They locked eyes briefly before she quickly looked away, while he simply lowered his gaze, fiddling with the buttons on the armrest. Finally...

"It's broken," Rupert said nonchalantly.

Sylvia was left speechless. She raised her eyes to meet his. His long lashes lifted slightly as his gaze lazily lingered on her, not even bothering to hide his deceit.

All she could do was clench her fists and turn her head away, staring at the dead screen.

Rupert shifted back to his original position, not looking at her but instead gazing out of the window, his eyes flickering.

Sylvia felt helpless, and from the corner of her eye, she caught Bridget sending a chilling look her way.

Unbothered, she simply closed her eyes.

Suddenly, a familiar voice exploded in her ear.

"Sylvia."

Freya!

to see the person

face delicately made up, was smiling gently, showing no signs of the beating she'd supposedly

to accompany her to give Bailey a gift,

need to ask- she knew this

seemed the two ladies

indicating she

Freya looked up at Rupert

Land

"Mr. Rupert, we still have over two hours to drive, and I see the kettle's boiling. How about I

tapping the screen on

slowly extended from between the double seats, effectively separating

side bar, brewed the

Rupert his coffee, the car jerked, causing Freya

Rupert's trousers and onto her pristine white shirt,

sorry. Let me clean that up for you. If that doesn't work, I'll break the bank to compensate you," she said, kneeling by his feet, using her faded handkerchief to dab

picture of

Bridget looked like she wanted to crush the cup in her hand, though she managed