Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert)

Chapter 330

The dinner venue had been switched to a much fancier restaurant this time- somewhere with real privacy, the kind of place where the waiters wear crisp white shirts and the wine list is longer than your Christmas shopping list.

The moment you stepped inside, you were hit with a sense of opulence-soft golden lights, thick carpets, and the gentle clink of champagne flutes. The private dining room had a long table dressed up with tasteful floral arrangements and elegant place settings. It all felt very "Gatsby's mansion, minus the jazz band."

Eloise entered first, greeting a couple of foreign guests with the classic European cheek kiss-double tap, smiles all around-before politely taking her seat.

Sylvia trailed behind her, a little out of her depth, and had barely taken two steps when a tall figure suddenly blocked her path.

"Hey there, miss."

Sylvia looked up, surprised to recognize one of her favorite Italian designers— Mark. His name was straight out of the Bible, a classic in Italy, but his creations were anything but traditional. He was famous for his bold, innovative designs, and rumor had it he drew inspiration from his own personal muse. Probably a hopeless romantic, Sylvia thought.

She couldn't quite believe he was talking to her. She was about to offer a handshake, but he went in for a hug instead his hands sliding from her shoulder down her back. It made her bristle a little, but she reminded herself that Europeans had different ideas about personal space.

Still, when he leaned in for a cheek kiss, she instinctively put up a hand to stop him. Thankfully, Eloise stepped in, greeting Mark with a quick hug of her own.

saw your latest collection-absolutely stunning," Eloise said,

this young lady is...?" Mark nodded towards

protective mentor, blocked him a little and replied offhandedly, "She's my intern. Come on,

followed Eloise to the table. Sylvia exhaled, feeling a tension she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching her. She glanced up, but nothing seemed

off. Designers swapped stories, glasses clinked, and Eloise-going through a rough divorce-seemed genuinely happy for the first time in weeks. Sylvia decided not to intrude, taking a quiet seat at the far end of the

sitting across from her, raising his glass with a charming smile. "I've seen your work. You've

noticed by her idol. She took a sip of

energy swept over her. It wasn't the usual buzz from a glass of rosé. It was more like

1.n

from the cocktail she'd finished. She looked around the table, her eyes landing on Mark. Across the flickering candlelight and bouquets, he caught her eye, lifting his glass in a silent toast, his smile

do something embarrassing, or worse. As the others chatted, she quietly pushed back her chair, hoping to

she tried to stand, a strong

bit too much? Let me help you

call for Eloise, but when she tried to speak, only a weird, strangled sound came out. Panic flared there was no way Eloise could hear her over the conversation, surrounded as

jaw, trying to pull away. Mark's grip tightened