Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert)

Chapter 240

Chris was just like always. Though he was a doctor, he had this knack for turning every conversation into a stand-up comedy routine.

His tone was always upbeat, brimming with energy and optimism.

It was hard to believe this was the same guy who'd go wild when he and Bridget were together.

If Sylvia hadn't already seen through his facade, she would've thought, like most people, that being friends with Chris was a joy.

Even she once considered that maybe, just maybe, in a past life, Chris's wrongdoings were all Rupert's doing.

But now, it was clear. He did it all willingly.

When he operated on Stella, he had no intention of letting her pull through.

At that time, the only thing tying Sylvia to Rupert was their child.

Because of the child, Rupert, a man of his stature, couldn't just abandon his wife and daughter. So he was stuck, torn between his affection for Bridget and their illegitimate child and his desire to get rid of Sylvia and Stella.

And with Chris and Bridget's inside help, Sylvia and Stella didn't stand a chance.

Sylvia never imagined that this joyful man would go so far as to help his lover marry his best friend with their son in tow.

Lost in thought, Sylvia didn't notice Chris approaching until he was right in front of her, squatting down, reaching for her foot.

She pulled back, wincing, "Don't touch me!"

was taken aback by the hostility in Sylvia's voice. Although she had never been particularly

animosity was

a moment, Chris was at

realized she

dealing with, Bridget and Chris, were

them, she had

that she knew something, she could be in real

quickly, Sylvia furrowed her brow and feigned pain, "It hurts a lot when touched, so

sincere,

her surprise, he knelt on

down there?" came

you want me

"Move over," Rupert gestured.

injury, not proposing. What's

shifted his knee, leaning in to examine Sylvia's

gripped the wheelchair handles tightly, puzzled. Was Chris really putting on

seemed to match the glowing

Warm and attentive.

he and Bridget were

stood up, dusting off his knee, his gaze fixed on

minor scrape, mostly a sprain. How'd you

he might

herself, trying to look natural, "Outside the studio, by the flowerbed. Didn't see