The Stand-In Who Burned the Script novel Chapter 158

Chapter 158

When Vivian woke up the next morning, the room was empty. The man hadn’t returned to sleep.

But it didn’t matter.

Taking over the master bedroom in such a short time was already a massive victory.

She got ready and headed downstairs.

Mrs. Gable had breakfast waiting. “Eat while it’s hot, Ms. Fairchild.”

Even though they saw each other daily, Mrs. Gable was still struck by Vivian’s striking beauty, sneaking a few extra glances.

Vivian pretended not to notice, her gaze drifting toward the yard. “Did Mr. Sterling leave?”

“Yes. Mr. Young came to pick him up right at dawn. Something about inspecting a major project.”

“Got it.”

Vivian smiled and nodded. “Go ahead with your chores.”

“Alright. I actually need to head out for groceries. Just make sure to lock the door when you leave.”

Not long after Mrs. Gable left, the sound of tires rolling up the driveway echoed outside.

Vivian grabbed a napkin, wiped her mouth, and stood up.

Before she could step out, a woman barged through the front door. Seeing Vivian, she froze. “What… what are you doing here?”

“You must be joking, Grace. Where else would I be?”

Vivian arched a brow, her eyes landing on Grace Gifford’s hand casually resting on the shoe

cabinet.

Her practiced movements proved she made a habit of showing up uninvited.

“I think the real question is, what are you doing in our house?”

Grace was still reeling from the shock. She had assumed Silas was just parading this woman around to make her jealous. But if it was true… why would they be living together?

Her face paled, but she forced her voice steady. “I left some things here. I came to pick them

up.”

“Oh, they’re probably in the storage room.”

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11:42

Chapter 158

“You-!”

Grace’s head snapped up, her voice rising in anger. “You touched my things?”

“Why so hostile, Grace?” Vivian chuckled. “Your junk was taking up space in our house. It was polite of me not to have the housekeeper toss it in the trash, and now you’re blaming me?”

Her constant use of “our house” sounded like her status was rock solid.

Impossible.

The Fairchild family was nothing. They weren’t worthy of the Sterlings.

Grace composed herself, though her breathing remained erratic. “Then please show me the way, Ms. Fairchild. I need to get my belongings.”

“Oh, I have no idea where the housekeeper put them. She’s not home. Come back this afternoon.”

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Grace reached her breaking point. She glared at the woman before her.

“Vivian, just because Silas brought you home, do you really think you’re something special?”

Vivian nodded earnestly. “What else should I think?”

Grace let out a bitter, furious laugh.

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