Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert)

Chapter 305

The burn of whiskey hadn't even hit her throat before a strong arm pulled Sylvia back against a hard chest.

Her hand, halfway to his cheek, was caught and pressed firmly around his neck, while his lips crashed down on hers-hungry, reckless, demanding the last drop of bourbon from her mouth.

Even when the taste of whiskey was gone, his kiss didn't let up. It was wild, relentless.

When he finally let her come up for air, Sylvia was breathless.

He pressed a finger to her lips, stopping her from speaking. His voice was low and rough. "Not bad, huh?"

Sylvia, her hand still on his shoulder, dug her nails in as a warning: let me go.

He didn't seem to notice. Instead, he caught her hand in his, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles.

Sylvia could've screamed. Was he out of his mind? Right here, in front of everyone?

Rupert didn't care. He turned to the client across the table, his expression cool as ever. "Anything else?"

The client, cheeks flushed with embarrassment, gave a nervous laugh. "No, nothing."

"Great. Then let's get the paperwork done." Rupert glanced to where Orson was standing quietly behind him.

Orson opened the folder and slid a pen across the table.

The client barely looked at the contract, wrapping an arm around the woman at his side, grinning. "Mr. Rupert, work talk just kills the mood. Tristan's not in a hurry, either, right?"

to squeeze a better deal

unfazed. He stood, pulling Sylvia up with him. "No rush, sure. But I'm not the one who lost his shirt betting on

paled, shoving the woman aside. He got it

Now he was broke, and everyone knew he'd tried

Rupert, the Carmichael

explaining. Are you

"I-yes, yes. Of course."

signed, face tight, even though the price was a third lower than he wanted. No one in their right mind would pick a fight

left the private room, Sylvia yanked her

hand at her waist, pinning her against the

doing here dressed

what's wrong,

run your fiancée's reputation? She's so pure, she'd never be caught dead in a place like this. I'm the wild one, right? If I'm

sŵnovel

ice-cold, every word

drunk. Stop talking nonsense.

shadowed, unreadable. He

moment, Sylvia knew. She knew the truth behind

lights flickered over her face, making her look

tight she felt like she might

you knew all along?"

Rupert's answer

a bitter