Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert) novel Chapter 642

Splash—

A bucket of ice-cold water crashed over Sylvia’s head, jolting her awake in a heartbeat.

She opened her mouth to scream, but the sharp river wind blasted her face, making her shiver so hard she could barely breathe.

That’s when she realized—she was under a bridge.

Her legs threatened to give way, but before she could collapse, someone yanked her hair from behind, forcing her to look up.

She saw his face clearly then—familiar, yet out of place. Sylvia’s heart dropped.

It was one of Rupert’s bodyguards.

She didn’t even know the guy’s name, but she’d seen him plenty of times before.

The bodyguard fixed her with a cold stare. “Sorry, Ms. Lloyd. Just doing my job.”

Sylvia could barely breathe, icy air filling her lungs, her heart thundering in her chest.

The next second, another man shoved her to the ground, pinning her injured hand against the muddy bank.

The first guy crouched beside her, grabbed a rock caked with river muck, and weighed it in his palm.

Sylvia fought with everything she had, but she couldn’t get free.

She looked up at him, desperate. “Why?”

His voice was flat. “Ms. Lloyd, you should’ve listened.”

He raised the rock.

“No!”

Her scream was cut short by blinding pain—and then nothing but blackness.

They tossed her aside on the cold riverbank.

Her bloodied hand lay submerged in the water, crimson swirling away in the current.

The bodyguard tossed the rock into the river. It hit with a deep plunk. Silence swallowed everything.

It was impossible to know how much time passed. The freezing river crept up Sylvia’s body, the cold biting deep. Suddenly, she gasped awake, choking for air.

She coughed violently, trying to push herself up—but her hand wouldn’t move. No matter how hard she tried, it stayed limp and useless.

Terror closed in. She couldn’t even cry.

Then, footsteps pounded nearby.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify