Before Sylvia could even say goodbye, the wheelchair spun around and whisked her out of Chris''s office.


    By the time they reached downstairs, the sky had turned a deep navy blue.


    Seeing them approach, the driver immediately jumped out to open the car door.


    "Rupert, I can just grab a cab home," Sylvia insisted, trying to stand up from the wheelchair.


    But as soon as she took a step, her legs gave out beneath her, and she copsed in front of Rupert.


    Thank heavens Rupert caught her just in time.


    How embarrassing!


    Sylvia couldn''t bring herself to look up, her cheeks burning with humiliation.


    Above her, Rupert''s voice drawled, teasing yet deep, "A bit early for New Year''s greetings, don''t you think? Or is it that my Christmas bonus wasn''t generous enough this year?"


    Sylvia gritted her teeth, but there was no point in arguing. Since she joined the Garcia family, Rupert had never failed to slip her a festive envelope each year.


    He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her to her feet and making her meet


    his gaze.


    "You''re always so polite to everyone else," he noted.


    "Thanks," Sylvia mumbled awkwardly.


    "What was that? I couldn''t hear you," Rupert leaned in, reducing the space between them.


    His warm breath mingled with the faint scent of his cologne, heating Sylvia''s cheeks to a fiery red. She tried to press him away, but he held her tighter, their bodies pressed against the car door.


    Rupert watched her silently, clearly waiting for her to say it again.


    Sylvia held her breath, then whispered, "Thank you."


    "Alright," Rupert released her, his arms on either side of the car door, "Get in."


    His tone was mild, but the authority in his voice left no room for argument. Resigned, Sylvia climbed into the car.


    As they drove away from the hospital, Rupert tapped his wristwatch, ncing at Sylvia.


    "Dinner time. Let''s grab something nearby."


    "Okay," Sylvia agreed, ncing at her own watch. Not that she had much choice; Rupert''s taste in restaurants guaranteed a good meal.


    Rupert lowered his wrist, eyes fixed ahead, "Since when did you start liking watches?"


    Sylvia''s heart skipped a beat.


    She was caught!


    Just moments ago, she had been bragging to Chris about her


    newfound love for watches, and now she didn''t even recognize the limited editio piece Rupert wore-a collector''s dream with only seven in the world.


    Taking a deep breath, she tried to sound calm, "Just recently, really saw MS. Eloise wearing one and thought it looked nice. nning to save up for one."


    "Hmm," Rupert murmured, closing his eyes as if to rest, though Sylvia felt his suspicion linger.


    Luckily, the car pulled up to the restaurant just then, and Sylvia quickly opened the door, finally able to breathe again.


    The restaurant manager approached with a wheelchair, smiling warmly, "Ms. Lloyd, right this way."


    Sylvia nced at Rupert, surprised by his thorough arrangements.


    Rupert adjusted his suit, "Need a lift?"


    "No!" Sylvia refused, maneuvering herself into the wheelchair.


    As Rupert exited the car, he exchanged a nce with Orson, who leaned in.


    "Mr. Rupert," Orson acknowledged.


    "Go..." Rupert whispered something in a low voice.


    Orson''s eyes widened briefly, then he nodded, "Of course."


    Following Rupert into the restaurant, Sylvia was preparing to sit when a haughtyugh came from behind her.


    "Well, if it isn''t the famous Mr. Rupert himself!"


    "Since we''ve bumped into each


    other, why not join us for dinner? It''s not every day you meet family. Plus, I''m in a particrly good moodtely."


    Family?


    Which rtive in the Garcia family would dare speak to Rupert that way?


    As the words lingered, three figures slowly approached.