The Stand-In Who Burned the Script novel Chapter 140

Chapter 140

Old Mr. Sterling’s eyes darted around eagerly. “Silas?”

Silas cast a glance at him and stood up.

Was he… actually going upstairs to coax her?

Old Mr. Sterling watched him walk up the stairs, a triumphant, blooming smile spreading across his face.

On the second floor, the master bedroom was at the far left end of the hall. The first room

right next to it was the one Vivian usually stayed in.

Silas stood in the middle of the hallway for a moment before walking straight ahead,/ stopping at the door of his own room, and pushing it open.

Only the wall sconces were on, casting a dim, ambient glow that gently illuminated the

space.

The woman in his bed hadn’t bothered to pull up the covers. Wearing a champagne-colored slip dress, she was lounging on her side against the dark linens. She looked like a dazzling rose blooming wildly in the middle of a barren desert, breathtaking and impossible to

ignore.

Oddly enough, she had only slept in this room for a single night, yet the entire space was now drenched in her scent.

Silas’s eyes darkened as he approached the edge of the bed.

He stared down at her in silence.

He had to admit, this woman was flawlessly beautiful at all times. Even at her most pathetic, her delicate features carried a unique, mesmerizing charm. And now…

She had clearly conspired with the old man, pretending to be angry just waiting for him to come coax her, and she was playing the part perfectly.

It was as if she were born to be pampered, held in a man’s palm, and utterly spoiled.

“Vivian.”

He called her name, but got no reaction.

Silas raised an eyebrow slightly. Bending over, he grabbed her ankle and pulled with a sudden, forceful jerk.

The woman slid from the center of the massive bed all the way to the edge. The motion caused her dress to ride up, bunching around her waist.

Her long, pale, slender legs were entirely exposed, flawless without a single ounce of excess

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fat.

She didn’t seem embarrassed, nor did she look particularly angry.

Rolling over, she propped herself up and looked at him.

“Why do you even care? Just let me starve to death.” Her voice dripped with an entitled, spoiled petulance.

Silas’s heavy gaze swept over her. After a moment, he sat down on the edge of the bed.

The second he sat, Vivian immediately shimmied closer.

She studied his expression, and seeing no anger, she softened her tone, taking the initiative. “You can’t do that to me in public anymore. If you keep embarrassing me in front of

everyone, I’m going to get upset.”

The man stared at her, utterly silent.

A slender finger reached out and poked his chest.

“Are you mute?”

Perhaps out of pure exasperation, Silas let out a soft chuckle. He looked up at her and asked, “Did Grandpa teach you this?”

The woman blinked, the absolute picture of innocence.

“Teach me what?”

“Where else did you get the audacity to think I’d actually serve you?”

“I didn’t ask you to serve me.” Her voice was soft. As she spoke, she slid even closer, her hand naturally climbing up his broad back before slipping around to his chest. The muscle beneath his shirt felt incredible, and she shamelessly kneaded it a couple of times.

Her fingers slipped through the gap in his unbuttoned shirt, pressing against his warm skin.

She breathed against his ear, her exhale smelling faintly of orchids.

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