Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert)

Sylvia walked into the private lounge with her pretty-boy date on her arm.

They'd barely sat down before he eagerly flagged down the server and ordered a bottle of champagne— something top-shelf, running close to five grand.

He probably had some kind of deal going with the club: the more he ordered, the bigger his cut. While placing the order, he shot Sylvia a sneaky glance, clearly trying to gauge if she was loaded.

Sylvia caught his look and smiled—a sultry, knowing smile that could melt hearts.

"One bottle? That's it? Are you really only planning to spend one bottle's worth of time with me?”

The words had a teasing, almost scandalous undertone. She felt her cheeks flush, but thankfully, the dim lighting hid her embarrassment.

This was one of Eloise's tricks—she'd said the best way to reel a man in was to beat him to the punch, say what he was thinking before he could.

Sure enough, the pretty boy seemed entranced, inching closer, eyes locked on hers.

his voice low. "Of course not. Even if

voice had a weird, bubbly quality to it, like

as an old

her hand, clearly about

hand back and slid the menu over to him. “Order whatever you

a bottle that'll make this night unforgettable.” He gave her a loaded look. Sylvia played

was never about feelings. Money was what mattered. The more generous Sylvia acted, the easier it was for him to believe she was an easy mark.

belongs to s

kept trying to impress her, name-dropping

brow, feigning curiosity. “Oh yeah? Who do you

worth more than most cars. "Only the big shots in New York

say anything, but the watch was obviously a gift from one of those “big shots.” Instead,

we're friends now, why not add each

but finally fished his phone out of