The Stand-In Who Burned the Script novel Chapter 171

Chapter 171

Silas Sterling stared into her clear, unblemished eyes. They were entirely transparent, and for a fleeting second, something unfamiliar stirred deep in his chest before vanishing as quickly as it came.

A moment passed.

“I’m curious about something,” he murmured.

“What is it?”

“You keep claiming you’re interested in me, but our paths have barely crossed. We met just a few days ago. What exactly are you hoping to get out of this? Power? Status? Or just money?”

Vivian Fairchild’s gaze faltered for a fraction of a second.

It was an incredibly subtle shift, but it didn’t escape Silas’s sharp observation.

The next second, her flawless smile returned. “Of course I am,” she replied breezily “Everyone knows the Sterling family is the most enigmatic powerhouse in Northside. You might keep a low profile, but your wealth definitely outshines the Granger family. Am I wrong?”

He merely arched an eyebrow, offering neither confirmation nor denial.

To Vivian, that was as good as a yes.

“So,” she continued, “marrying you means I get all of that, plus a husband who looks like a Hollywood A-lister. Why wouldn’t I?”

“A fair point,” Silas agreed, nodding slowly with mock seriousness.

“And this justifies you tormenting me?”

” Н

The playful gleam in Vivian’s eyes shattered. She released her grip on him. “I never intended to torment you. Isn’t this just the thrill of the chase? We don’t have any emotional foundation. If we aren’t flirting, what are we supposed to do? Sit around and talk about the weather?”

Silas pressed his lips into a tight line, saying nothing.

His features were breathtakingly handsome, yet overwhelmingly aloof.

It was as if no one was worthy of his affection, let alone his love.

What was the cliché?

An untouchable god.

1/3

12:05

Chapter 171

But Vivian had a particular flaw: when she set her sights on something, she didn’t care how unattainable it was. She was going to pluck that flower and claim it for herself, no matter what.

The tense silence was broken by Silas’s ringing phone. As he picked it up, Vivian caught a glimpse of the caller ID:

Grace.

He didn’t answer.

Instead, he pulled Vivian up and rose to his feet.

The sheer difference in their height instantly amplified his commanding presence.

“Whether you’re looking for a fling or something real, stop wasting your time on me,” he warned coldly. “Enough is enough. Not every man falls for this cutesy, manipulative routine. I’ve tolerated you out of basic decency, not because your little tricks actually work. Understood?”

They had only been married for a few days, yet this woman had systematically shattered every boundary he possessed.

He had been ruthless with his words, but he hadn’t actually laid a finger on her.

And tonight? He had crossed his own line.

He had actually cooked for her.

Looking back on it, Silas felt like he was losing his mind.

He ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek, brushed past her, and strode out of the room.

The study felt instantly hollow. The lighting was dim, especially behind the heavy mahogany desk. Vivian looked down at her shadow, distorted and sliced in half by the edge of the table.

Silas Sterling.

She traced the letters of his name across the polished wood with her slender finger.

It took her a long time to finally return to her bedroom.

Unsurprisingly, Silas wasn’t there.

He had been sleeping in the guest room-the very room Vivian used to occupy.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify