Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert)
Chapter 161

Bridget, attempting to defend herself, whispered emphatically, "Rupert and I were like a house on fire yesterday. He didn't even make it to the bed before he bonked me. The noise from the phone was just part of the fun. You, relying on slipping something into drinks to get into bed, wouldn't understand." Sylvia scoffed, "Then maybe you should spend some time making him some of that energy-boosting soup."

"You..."

Sylvia, uninterested in continuing the conversation, shrugged Bridget's hand off and walked into her room.

This was a classic case of Bridget trying to play a game and ending up playing herself. But how did Bailey find out about the stuff on Bridget's phone?

...

Down the hallway, Bailey walked with grace, a playful smile on her lips, "Rupert, were you satisfied with my performance just now? But to embarrass your fiancée like that, aren't you mad?"

Yesterday, after finishing a call, she was heading back to discuss some contract details with Rupert when she heard noises coming from Bridget's room.

Initially, she thought it best not to intrude, but upon turning around, she bumped into Rupert, who was coming from the living room. She immediately understood Bridget's scheme. Normally, she wouldn't bother with Bridget, but today, Bridget had the audacity to parade around her turf with her posse. Of course, she had to teach her a lesson. "Don't overdo it," Rupert said, devoid of any emotion.

Bailey laughed, slowly offering Rupert a cigarette and leaning in to light it for him.

"Rupert, did you...enjoy last night? How come you haven't thanked me yet?"

"The contract is short by ten percent."

Rupert turned to light his cigarette, knowing all along she was behind it.

After extinguishing the lighter, Bailey clicked her tongue, "Such ingratitude! Helping that girl out and not even checking on her?"

"Nope," Rupert continued walking.

"Huh, playing tough, as if that girl could fall for you!"

...

After freshening up, Sylvia joined everyone for breakfast in the dining room.

Once breakfast was over and the butler announced the roads were clear, everyone prepared to leave. Before boarding the car, Sylvia made a point to walk over to Bailey. "Bailey, thank you for this morning."

"You think it was me?" Bailey replied with a light smile.

"Then it was?" Sylvia asked, puzzled.

"It's..." Bailey glanced over Sylvia's shoulder, smiling. "It's just because you're so likable. Remember to make my jewelry design extra beautiful."

"Of course."

Sylvia didn't dwell on Bailey's gaze, delighted with her trust and repeatedly promising to deliver.

On the way back, it seemed like no one had slept well the previous night, and the ride was silent. Upon learning Sylvia had managed to handle Bailey, Eloise decided to give them a day off to rest.

After dropping off the others, only Sylvia and Rupert remained in the car. Thinking back to the

awkwardness of the previous night, Sylvia decided to pretend to sleep.

Upon arriving at the Garcia family estate, she quickly got out of the car and ran off.

Rupert frowned, wondering if he was able to scare her to this extent. He slowly got out of the car, and the butler approached him.

"Mr. Rupert Garcia, Mr. Tristan Garcia is asking for you."

"Alright."

A short while later, he entered Tristan's study.

Tristan was practicing painting, his skills smooth and deliberate.

"Did the deal go through?"

"Yeah."

Rupert sat by the desk, casually sipping coffee with a laid-back air.

Tristan, discarding the freshly complete painting, continued his work, his voice authoritative, "Bridget has been causing too much trouble online lately." Eyes downcast, Rupert remained silent.

Tristan said authoritatively, his hand moving, Theard her studio is

collaborating with Bailey. If you ne

keeping her around, she needs to show some results."

"Understood," Rupert replied coolly.

Then, Tristan circled a place forcefully with his brush.

"I can never get this part right. Keeping it only makes it uglier."

Without a glance, Rupert set down the cup and coldly suggested, "Then throw it away."

Tristan let go, and the paper landed in the trash.

"Perhaps that's for the best."