Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert)
Chapter 130

In the hospital.

After getting her IV, Sylvia's fever had completely subsided. Though she was still a bit weak, her spirits were pretty good.

"Are you sure you don't want to stay for observation? After all that drinking, falling into the water, and getting a fever, it's not unusual to stay a day for monitoring," Chris suggested as he filled out her chart. Sylvia ignored him, throwing the blanket aside and swinging her legs out of bed.

Every time she saw Chris, her feelings were mixed. She had discreetly asked around and learned he was a competent and well-regarded doctor, even among his patients.

It seemed unlikely that he would conduct an unauthorized surgery on a child. Still, she couldn't entirely dismiss the possibility that he might bend the rules, for Rupert's sake. At the end of the day, Rupert was at the heart of it all.

Seeing her determination, Chris sighed softly, his gaze inadvertently falling on the sweater she was wearing. His expression changed suddenly.

Wasn't this sweater Rupert's?

Sylvia didn't catch Chris's reaction as she slung her bag over her shoulder and headed for the door.

Before she could leave, a figure blocked her path.

The man's hand, adorned with a ruby ring, rested against the door frame. His deep-set eyes radiated a dangerous vibe. He looked down at her, his voice inscrutable. "Inside." Sylvia met his gaze and reached to push his arm away.

Normally, she was no match for him, and now, still weak from her fever, she couldn't even leave a mark on his arm, let alone move him.

Out of breath, she retreated into the room, sitting at the foot of the bed. Her voice was muffled. "What do you want?"

Rupert stepped aside, revealing the slender figure behind him.

Bridget.

Her face was even more swollen than before, with visible veins under her skin and watery eyes, the image of distress. Upon seeing Sylvia, Bridget deliberately ducked behind Rupert, as if Sylvia were some sort of beast.

Clutching Rupert's shirt, Bridget peeked out and sobbed, "Sylvia, l don't know how the news of you hitting me got out. I've been trying to clear it up, but the online crowd just won't listen."

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Clear it up?

Her tone betrayed her. It sounded triumphant. After all, she had a vast fanbase to defend her, while Sylvia stood alone.

"I'm not worried about my

reputation; Lust don't want to drag

Rupert and the Garcia family into this mess, Bridget then looked up at Rupert, her face showing concern, "Rupert, don't blame Sylvia. I'

confess my mistakes to Tristan,

even if it means kneeling

At the mention of Tristan, Rupert's lips pressed into a thin line, handing Sylvia a document.

"Post this using your account."

It wasn't a request but a demand.

Opening the document, Sylvia's face drained of color as she read the words 'apology statement.'

She threw the document on the floor, livid. "Why should I apologize? If anyone should be apologizing, it's Bridget to me! I will not post any apology statement."

"Sylvia," Bridget cried, "It's all my

fault! At Raradise Pavilion, I

shouldn't have interfered with your affair.deserve to be hit. I'll go to Tristan right away and explain!"

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Rupert's brow furrowed as he reached out to stop Bridget. His gaze on Sylvia was icily threatening.

"Bridget didn't hit you, and you know it."

"What about what she did?" Sylvia countered.

"Where's the proof?"

Silence.

The proof had been erased by Rupert, allowing him to brazenly pressure her into releasing an apology statement.

At that moment, Bridget, hiding behind Rupert, revealed eyes gleaming with malice, radiating triumph.

Seeing this, Sylvia couldn't help but laugh bitterly, her sarcastic applause echoing through the sterile hospital room.

As she laughed, tears began to well in her eyes, a lump formed in her throat as she struggled to suppress the feelings of helplessness and despair.