Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert) novel Chapter 419

He was stubborn to the core—old-fashioned, pigheaded, and about as chauvinistic as they come.

Being called out like this in front of everyone by his usually quiet son was a punch to his pride. His face went red with anger. He snatched up his coffee mug and hurled it to the hardwood floor. The ceramic shattered, sending shards everywhere. No one dared even breathe.

“You’ve got some nerve, boy! Who do you think you are, speaking to me like that?”

Edwin, for once, didn’t back down. He met his father’s glare, calm and steady. “Dad, you really think you had nothing to do with what happened to Warren? Not even a little?”

Tristan’s jaw was clenched so tight you could see the muscles jumping in his cheek. He said nothing, nostrils flaring.

Warren, who’d been staring at the floor the whole time, looked up, startled. “Uncle Edwin, what are you talking about?”

Edwin’s lips twisted in a bitter half-smile. “Maybe it’s better if someone else explains.”

He turned to the old oak doors at the far end of the room.

Three figures slowly stepped inside.

Warren’s eyes went wide with shock as he recognized the man leading them—and so did most of the others. Even Sylvia, who had been quietly standing in the back, realized she’d seen his face in the family portrait hanging in the study.

It was Warren’s father, Patrick Garcia. The man everyone thought had died years ago.

He looked older now, with gray streaks at his temples and deep lines on his face, much more so than Edwin, despite being only a couple years apart. But his smile was warm, genuine, and infectious.

“Dad?” Warren’s voice trembled. “You’re alive?”

Patrick gave a small, apologetic nod. “Yeah. I’m here.”

Warren practically leapt to his feet, pointing a shaky finger at Rupert. “Dad, tell everyone—was it Rupert? Did he kill you?”

Patrick’s brows drew together in annoyance. “Who told you that? Rupert had nothing to do with what happened to me.”

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