Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert)

He was stubborn to the core-old-fashioned, pigheaded, and about as

chauvinistic as they come.

Being called out like this in front of everyone by his usually quiet son was a punch to his pride. His face went red with anger. He snatched up his coffee mug and hurled it to the hardwood floor. The ceramic shattered, sending shards everywhere. No one dared even breathe.

"You've got some nerve, boy! Who do you think you are, speaking to me like that?"

Edwin, for once, didn't back down. He met his father's glare, calm and steady. "Dad, you really think you had nothing to do with what happened to Warren? Not even a little?"

Tristan's jaw was clenched so tight you could see the muscles jumping in his cheek. He said nothing, nostrils flaring.

Warren, who'd been staring at the floor the whole time, looked up, startled. "Uncle Edwin, what are you talking about?"

Edwin's lips twisted in a bitter half-smile. "Maybe it's better if someone else explains."

He turned to the old oak doors at the far end of the room.

Three figures slowly stepped inside.

the others. Even Sylvia, who

The man everyone

on his face, much more so than

Warren's voice trembled.

gave a small, apologetic nod. "Yeah. I'm

shaky finger at Rupert. "Dad, tell

you that? Rupert had nothing to do with what happened

gasped,

it, Tristan shot

"Patrick, what happened to

gesturing to the two people behind him. "Sorry, Dad. But I'm fine. I'd like you to meet

room, which had been tense but at least civil, turned absolutely

Hollywood gorgeous, but she had clear eyes and a bright, open smile. Her short chestnut hair framed a healthy, sun-kissed face. The girl

but notice that, unlike the rest of the family in their designer clothes and stiff postures, these two

voice boomed from the head of

them out-now. As far away as possible. And you-" he pointed at Patrick, "-you'll hold a press conference with Fiona and say