The Stand-In Who Burned the Script novel Chapter 199

Chapter 199

The first part was a genuine question, the second part was the real issue.

“Ah.”

The woman shifted her hands up to his neck, hugging him snugly from behind. The intimate posture made them look like a deeply devoted couple.

“I hit him because he deserved it. He refused to let me be with you, and he kept saying awfu things about you…”

She puffed her cheeks out, looking genuinely furious on his behalf. “I don’t care if people insult me, I’m used to it anyway. But I won’t let anyone insult you.”

Like he’d believe a single word of her nonsense.

Silas exhaled sharply. “Let go.”

“…” She refused.

“Didn’t you want to go out? Are we leaving or not?”

“Let’s go! Let’s go!”

Vivian giggled, obediently stepping aside to watch him shut down his laptop and stand up.

Before he could reach for it himself, she grabbed his suit jacket and draped it perfectly over her arm, following right on his heels as he walked to the door. “What are your friends’ names? Should I memorize their personalities so I don’t look stupid when we’re talking? You-” Mmh.

Silas stopped dead in his tracks and pinched her lips shut with his fingers.

“If you utter one more useless word, I am having Simon drive you straight home. Understood?”

The woman blinked her wide eyes. Understood.

He let her go.

Vivian didn’t say another word.

She knew when to push and when to stop. The fact that Silas was willing to introduce her to his inner circle was an unexpected massive win for the night.

Lounge One was located in the Upper East Side, about a twenty-minute drive away.

The club was notorious for its ironclad security. Once you stepped through the doors, no matter who you were, you didn’t start trouble.

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10:00

Chapter 199

The car descended into the underground VIP garage. As the motion-sensor lights flickered to life, the space revealed itself to be a showroom of multi-million-dollar supercars.

Simon parked the van, rushed around the front, and respectfully pulled the backdoor open.

“Hold on.”

Vivian spoke up suddenly, grabbing the man’s arm just as he was about to step out.

Silas frowned at her. “What are you doing?”

“Your collar is messy.”

She carefully smoothed out his collar, patting his broad shoulders twice for good measure. “Much better. You look gorgeous.”

The man let out a cold scoff, as if to say it was an undeniable fact that didn’t require her

commentary.

They entered the elevator and headed up.

Vivian held out her hand. “Hold my hand.”

Silas stared at her, genuinely surprised by the sheer audacity of the demand. The corner of his mouth curved into a mocking smirk. “What did you just say?”

“I said, hold my hand.”

Vivian aggressively grabbed his large hand, locking their fingers together.

Just a second before he could rip his hand away, she whispered, “Mr. Sterling keeps talking about owing me compensation. If I remember correctly, on our wedding day, you said I could name my price, right?”

Silas shot her a dark look, but before he could speak, the elevator doors chimed open.

They stepped out.

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