Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert)
Chapter 180

Miriam noticed Bridget's pale face and hurriedly picked up the fallen phone, pressing it to her ear.

"Ah! I was wrong! I won't do it again! Ms. Simpson, please save me!"

"Ms. Simpson, save me! Otherwise, I'll haunt you even in death!"

The chilling screams of several men made Miriam quickly shut off the phone.

Rubbing her temples, she muttered, "That voice sounded like..."

Bridget said weakly, "The dean and those three thugs... Rupert knows now!"

"Just calm down," Miriam urged, trying to soothe her. But Bridget shoved her away, her composure cracking.

Abandoning her usual gentle and graceful demeanor, Bridget began pacing the living room like a storm.

"How can I be calm? Rupert told me to endure it! How can I endure this?"

Worried that Bridget's current state might be seen by others, Miriam quickly closed the living room door and guided her to sit down.

"Rupert rushing to the hospital so quickly shows he's worried this will impact the deal. The bigger the corporation, the more it cares about scandals. He can't let people think he abandoned his sick fiancée for Sylvia, can he?" At those words, Bridget calmed down.

Miriam was right; she hadn't lost yet.

But... she couldn't help but worry.

"Mom, the foreign delegates will be here next week. If the deal succeeds, will Rupert continue to act like this, keeping the peace?"

Rupert's increasingly lingering gaze on Sylvia gnawed at her.

Bridget was terrified of losing everything.

And so was Miriam.

Without Rupert's crucial support, the Simpson family's standing would crumble.

It all came back to Sylvia. Without her, Rupert would never have changed.

As Bridget pondered, a devious plan began to take shape, her lips curling slightly with the thrill of her scheme.

"Let's get rid of Sylvia before the deal."

"What are you planning?" Miriam asked.

"Why should I dirty my hands? There are others who will do it for me. I want Rupert to watch Sylvia's downfall."

...

Sylvia had gone to bed early the previous night, enjoying the luxury of extra sleep thanks to her apartment's convenient location.

After grabbing a quick breakfast nearby, she arrived at the studio to find Bridget, who had been sick just the day before, energetically handing out invitations.

A colleague joked, "What's this? A wedding invitation?"

Bridget blushed. "No, silly. It's just for a birthday party. Rupert said he'd deliver the wedding invitations himself."

"Wow, that's so romantic. So, Rupert will be at the birthday party too?"

"Of course! Bridget caught a cold yesterday, and Rupert rushed to the hospital. Who could top that kind of affection?" another colleague chimed in.

Bridget waved it off, shyly saying, "He just can't stand to see me sick."

Then, seeing Sylvia enter, Bridget immediately approached her.

"Sylvia, here's your invitation. You must come!"

"I can't," Sylvia flatly refused.

Bridget's tears came easily, her voice filled with hurt. "Sylvia, I know you've caught Bailey's eye now, but genuinely want you there. Everyone's agreed to come, and if you don't, people will think we're fighting over the Bailey incident."

Sylvia pressed her lips together.

That was Bridget's talent- portraying herself as the victim, no matter what.

Even though it was Bridget who had mocked Bailey's camellia necklace design, now it sounded as though

U

Sylvia had personally made Bailey hang the necklace on a dog.

The colleagues around them exchanged curious glances.

Christine stood up, saying, "Sylvia, we've all agreed. You insisting on being different just doesn't look good."

The others joined in, "Consider the studio's reputation. Eloise and her husband are going too. If you're the only one absent, it'll look like there's discord among us. You're still an intern designer, and you've got a long road ahead."

Caught off guard, Sylvia realized she had no excuse not to go if Eloise and her husband were attending.

"Alright," she finally accepted the invitation card.

For the rest of the time, everyone buzzed around Bridget, discussing the details of the birthday party.