Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert)

Sylvia swallowed her anger with effort, her hands clenching tightly on her knees.

"Ms. Winslet, you know I wouldn't come to you empty-handed."

Kay's wine glass paused at her lips, and she shot Sylvia a razor-sharp sideways glance.

"Sylvia, you'd better watch what you say."

Sylvia met her warning eyes directly, then let her gaze drift slowly to the ring on Kay's finger.

Forget the elaborate setting-just the reverse-mounting technique was rare. And those gemstone cuts were hardly standard.

Sylvia was a jewelry designer; she noticed every piece that flashed by her eyes.

According to the gossip online, that ring was given to Kay by her father when she took over the family business. It was a symbol of her status.

She never took it off.

It wasn't the kind of thing someone could fake.

Kay, noticing Sylvia's stare, seemed to catch on and instinctively covered her hand.

Sylvia pulled out her phone, tapping a photo. She pointed at the clear handprint on Naomi's cheek and zoomed in until you could make out the unique pattern where the middle finger had pressed.

should keep your hands to yourself. Otherwise..." Sylvia threw Kay's own

Winslet Group's history.

of all people, should've known how tough it was for women. Yet here she was,

is that a threat?" Kay slammed her glass

it's not a threat.

They locked eyes.

Kay's jaw. Suddenly,

mother, I might actually respect you a little. Too bad... You'll never be a match for

pressed her lips together, cold sweat slicking her palm where she gripped her

cold laugh. "Yeah, it was me. So what? A ring-shaped bruise only proves

watching. I wonder what

belongs to s

I've been in this game too

a few tricks."

a small device by her foot—a

down at her phone-her recording app

hand. "Sylvia, you're way too green. And your mom's just hopeless. What right do you have to hang on to the Garcia family? m doing you a favor,

Sylvia's heart dropped.

What do you

anymore. Time to get married. Don't

mom, always chasing things that