Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert)

Chapter 245

Sylvia looked at Rupert in surprise. How on earth did he know she was craving clam chowder?

Rupert turned his head slightly, his voice calm, "Go ahead, have some."

"Okay."

Sylvia nodded and took a sip of the soup.

Watching the scene unfold, Warren's expression was inscrutable, his hand gripping his fork tightly.

Fiona dabbed her lips with a napkin, chuckling softly, "Sylvia, what brings you to dinner with Rupert? As someone older, let me remind you that some things shouldn't be repeated. For a woman, reputation is everything."

Sylvia's face turned pale.

She was well aware that Fiona was alluding to that fleeting moment between her and Rupert. Though it had happened ages ago, the Garcias never dared to discuss it openly. Yet here was Fiona, making her feel small in front of everyone at the table.

Just then, the sound of tea being poured interrupted the tension.

After setting down the teapot, Rupert leisurely picked up his cup, his gaze icy as he locked eyes with Fiona.

"I wasn't aware I needed to report my whereabouts to outsiders. Wouldn't you agree?"

The word "outsider" cut Fiona deeply.

Rupert set the cup down slowly, his face devoid of emotion. "Just what I said. Come and go as you please-treat the Garcias

so tough, maybe I should ask Tristan for permission

and Warren's expressions flickered with panic for

to the Carmens-a fate not exactly

his glass toward Rupert. "My mom didn't mean

joke if the person you're joking about finds it funny. Do I

tapped rhythmically against the cup, the ruby glinting

Fiona a

turned to

your aunt spoke out

intentional. I'll drink to`

tilted her head back,

her, focusing

but

a hint of reproach before stepping in

let's eat," he said with a grin. "Sylvia, if you enjoy clam chowder that much, have

slid the

her bowl aside, Sylvia wiped her mouth.

his plump cheeks quivering as he squinted at

her wheelchair back. "I need to

moment to compose herself in the restroom,

was waiting, cigarette in hand, a barely concealed edge