Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert)

The Red House

The house was beautiful inside, but there was something undeniably eerie about it. Every corner seemed to hum with an uneasy chill.

Warren, who was used to being waited on hand and foot, had only left two maids to look after Fiona.

Sylvia was sent upstairs to a room.

When she opened the door, the room was pitch black. Before her eyes could even adjust, someone shoved her hard, and she tumbled to the floor.

She scrambled up, desperate to escape, but the door slammed shut and locked behind her.

The darkness was suffocating, bottomless, like she'd been dropped into a well. Fumbling along the wall, Sylvia finally found the switch and flicked on the light.

When she saw the room, she froze, her face draining of color.

Before her brain could even process it, her body reacted first. "Urgh-"

She bolted into the bathroom, retching violently until there was nothing left. Leaning over the sink, she finally caught her breath.

When she looked up into the mirror, her own pale, numb face was slowly merging with another-one she didn't recognize. It was as if a shadow was leaning over her shoulder.

Sylvia spun around, heart pounding.

But there was nothing just a stark white wall.

Panicked, she fled the bathroom and looked around at the bizarre, almost indecent furnishings. She felt a wave of nausea roll over her again.

A round bed dominated the center of the room, a mirror mounted above it. The cabinets lining the wall were all mirrored, too.

There was a chair in the corner-though it barely looked like anything you could sit in, or lie on. Even the window seat was covered in some kind of waterbed pad, and she could picture exactly how someone might move on it. The whole setup practically screamed what it was for.

Even the bathroom seemed intentionally suggestive-the tub was oddly shaped, and there were inexplicable rings bolted to the ceiling.

Sylvia clutched her throbbing head, yanked the comforter off the bed, and wrapped herself in it, curling up in the smallest corner she could find.

She had no idea how much time passed before the door opened and Warren walked in, holding a steaming mug.

"Sylvia, it's freezing out there. I asked the maid to make you some hot ginger tea."

Sylvia looked up at him, unable to make sense of this man. He was a storm- sometimes gentle, sometimes raging.

She glanced at the mug, steam curling up from the surface. Her voice was flat and cold: "No thanks. I'm not cold."

Warren set the mug down, towering over her.

Her raven-black hair spilled over her shoulders, making her skin look like

porcelain. Her face was beautiful and alive, but her eyes were rimmed red, glossy with tears.

She was the kind of woman any man could lose himself in-just one look was enough.

He knelt beside her, brushing her hair gently. "Sylvia, you're beautiful," he said softly.

But for some reason, that single sentence sent a chill down Sylvia's spine. She shifted away from him, desperate for distance.

A flash of anger crossed Warren's face. Suddenly, he grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her close.

His handsome features twisted into something sinister. "Sylvia, do you have any idea how much it hurt me to send you into his room?"

"Hurt?" Sylvia spat. "Hurt that you didn't get what you wanted? Please. Even if I'd thrown myself at Uncle Rupert, he wouldn't care about me. He'd never sacrifice anything for me!"

"Oh, really? Then why are you still alive?" Warren sneered. "Do you know how many women have tried to trap Rupert? None of them made it out. You're the only one who ended up on the internet and still walked away—otherwise, why would Grandpa be so nervous about you?"

Sylvia stared at him, stunned.

No. That wasn't how she remembered it at all.

After she married Rupert, he'd never shown her a kind face. He shut her and their daughter out of everything the Garcia family did, making sure they were always outsiders.

Before she could think any more, Warren lunged forward and kissed her.

She threw her hands up to block him, fighting wildly, kicking and scratching.

Warren's temper snapped. He grabbed her head and slammed it against the mirrored cabinet.

With a click, the cabinet door popped open.

Sylvia caught a glimpse of what was inside and suddenly, her blood ran cold.

Warren twisted her arm, forcing her to look. "See? Good. Since you're so you

stubborn, I'll just have to teach y

how to use these. Wouldn't want you getting uncomfortable tonight, now would we?" noveldrama