Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert)

Fanny's henchman handed her the bag.

Sylvia rattled off the unlock code without hesitation.

Fanny scrolled through every last thing on Sylvia's phone and laptop-work emails, class notes, random chitchat. No trace of any incriminating video or photos.

She frowned, clearly still suspicious.

Meanwhile, Sylvia quietly worked a broken tile against the rope binding her wrists underwater, trying to keep the conversation going. "Ms. Lance, if you think I'm hiding something, you're more than welcome to have your tech guy do a deep search."

Fanny didn't hesitate. She waved her hand, and one of her people started a full scan on both devices.

Watching the progress bars crawl across the screens, Sylvia felt a flicker of hope. Her hard drive was packed with four years' worth of design files and half-finished projects-searching all that would take a while.

Hopefully long enough.

But just as she felt the last threads start to give way, the scan beeped finished. "Nothing, ma'am."

Fanny snatched Sylvia's phone, glaring in disbelief.

Sylvia felt a strange mix of relief and gratitude-she owed Rupert for scrubbing her phone so thoroughly.noveldrama

Fanny's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "That's impossible!" She yanked Sylvia to her feet. "Are you playing games with me?"

Sylvia forced herself to stay calm. "Why would I? What, so you can kill me? Ms. Lance, come on. I don't have a beef with you-why would I try to trick you?"

"You want to seduce Mr. Rupert and frame Bridget! You want to turn us all against each other!"

Sylvia stared at her, deadpan. "So you'd treat Bridget the same way you treat me?"

Fanny hesitated. Her grip loosened.

"You wouldn't," Sylvia said quietly. "Because Rupert's got her back. So what would

I get from framing her? But if I die here tonight, who really wins? Ms. Lance, I

know I'm not getting out of this alive. When people have nothing left, they tell the truth."

She looked pale, exhausted-almost pitiful.

Fanny faltered, doubt flickering in her eyes.

That was all the opening Sylvia needed. She finally sliced through the last rope, flexed her ankles, and slipped free. Then, in a blur, she grabbed Fanny's legs and yanked her into the pool.

Fanny shrieked as she hit the filthy, reeking water, sending up a cloud of foul

bubbles. For a moment, no one on the pool deck could see a thing.

Sylvia knew exactly which way to bolt. Ignoring the burning from the tile cuts on her skin, she swam for the deep end, then scrambled out onto the slippery tiles-dripping, blood and dirty water trailing behind her. sŵnovel

Just as Fanny's bodyguards fished their boss out of the water, Fanny spotted Sylvia and screamed, "Get her! Don't let her escape kill her!"

A pack of men charged after Sylvia.

She sprinted, heart pounding, toward the emergency exit.

But she'd underestimated Fanny's paranoia. Every exit was barricaded with

broken folding chairs and stacked pool loungers.

Panicked, Sylvia darted through the back hallway, doubling back through the maze of changing rooms, finally squeezing into a locker barely big enough to hide her.

She clamped a hand over her mouth, curling into herself, trying not to breathe.

Footsteps thundered past, fading. At last, Sylvia let herself take a breath.

Just as she started to think she might have made it out, the locker door was yanked open.

The dim locker room filled with a hulking shadow. He dragged her out and slammed her against the wall.

Pain exploded through her, leaving her limp and shaking.

The man loomed over her-black leather jacket and jeans, motorcycle helmet hiding his face. There was nothing visible behind the dark visor, but she could feel his eyes on her.

"Useless. Why do I always have to clean up after you people?" His voice was muffled and cold, echoing from beneath the helmet.

He bent, picking up a rusty length of pipe from the floor, advancing on her.

Sylvia pressed herself back against the wall, her gaze dropping from the helmet to the eagle emblem stitched on his chest.