Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert) novel Chapter 398

Sylvia took a couple of wary steps back as the man approached.

It was Warren Garcia.

It had been a while since she’d seen him—he looked thinner, almost worn down.

Naomi had told her he’d been forced out of his position at Garcia Enterprises. Even his father’s shares had been snatched back by Tristan. Now, all Warren could do was tag along with Fiona Carmen to the old Carmen Group—although, technically, the Carmen Group had been acquired by Rupert now.

At best, Warren was just another shareholder.

Sylvia still didn’t quite get it—why did Tristan have to be so ruthless with him?

Catching herself, she gave a polite nod. “Hey, Warren.”

Warren mustered a weak smile. “Still mad at me?”

Sylvia said nothing.

How could she not be angry?

She’d trusted him for two lifetimes, only to find out he’d been lying to her the whole time.

Warren met her gaze and sighed. “I’m here to apologize. Would you have dinner with me? This might be the last chance I get.”

Sylvia looked up at him, suspicious. “You…”

“My mom’s not doing well. Things have gotten worse since all this happened. I’m taking her overseas for treatment. After that… well, I doubt we’ll come back.”

“When are you leaving?”

“Christmas.” Warren’s mouth twisted in a bitter smile.

Fate was at work again.

Sylvia had hoped to change the fate of this mother and son, but in the end, it seemed nothing had changed.

She let out a quiet sigh. “Alright. Let’s eat.”

She had her own questions anyway.

Suddenly, there was a commotion at the front of the restaurant.

Sylvia set down her cup and looked over. Of all the people she didn’t want to see, he was the last.

The restaurant manager was leading the way. Rupert and Bailey followed behind, deep in conversation, Bailey laughing behind her hand at something Rupert said.

Sylvia had heard the rumors before—Bailey had always had a soft spot for Rupert. Bailey was a few years older, but Sylvia had seen her in action: sharp, loyal, and generous. She admired women like that.

Warren noticed her gaze and turned to look as well.

He leaned in and asked quietly, “Want to go say hi?”

Sylvia shook her head and sipped her tea. “No, thanks.”

Warren’s tone softened. “Uncle Rupert’s playing a different game. The whole Garcia legacy rests on his shoulders. He’s the face of the Garcias now—always meant for the top. Any woman standing beside him would have to be his equal, in every way.”

“Yeah.” Sylvia agreed, her face unreadable.

He swirled his tea, watching her. “Sylvia, you know better than anyone. Actually, there’s something I wanted to hear straight from you.”