The Stand-In Who Burned the Script novel Chapter 220

Chapter 220

When the old man ‘helped,’ his standard tactic involved locking them together inside the manor. If he was talking about an unconventional method…

Vivian didn’t even want to hear it.

If Silas ever found out, she would be dead meat.

“Grandpa, please don’t stress yourself over this. I swear on my life I’ll give you an heir within two years. Deal?”

“I’m just worried your romance is taking too long to bloom. What, is my meddling annoying you?”

“I would never.”

Vivian pictured the old man fuming on the other end of the line and couldn’t suppress a grin “If you’re really that bored, why don’t you check out the senior recreation center downtown? They have tons of activities, and I bet there are plenty of beautiful old ladies looking for a dance partner.”

Did this brat seriously just call him a bored old man with too much free time?

Hit right in the ego, the old man stayed dead silent for a long while.

Finally, he grumbled out, “Fine. You kids and your modern romantic drama. I can’t be

bothered to fix it.”

Vivian stared at the disconnected call screen, the playful smile slowly draining from her face.

Silas, Silas, Silas.

If she couldn’t drag him across the finish line soon, the old man was going to put a hit out on

her.

Spinning the phone in her palm, Vivian immediately dialed Silas’s number.

No answer.

“The man is supposedly blind, yet somehow he’s the busiest CEO on earth.”

She muttered the sarcastic jab to herself, tossed her phone onto her desk, and dove back into her emails.

***

“Silas, are you done with your meetings?”

Over at Sterling Enterprises, Grace Gifford had been sitting in the lobby for two excruciating

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hours.

The second she saw his tall, imposing figure stride past, she scrambled to her feet and chased after him. “We haven’t had a meal together in forever. It’s rare that I actually have a free afternoon. Do you want to grab lunch at that high-end Korean place at The Promenade?”

Silas didn’t even break his stride, his voice laced with ice. “Is the Gifford Family going

bankrupt?”

Assuming he was genuinely asking, Grace frantically clarified, “No, the company is perfectly

fine.”

“Then why are you begging me to buy you lunch?”

Grace stopped dead in her tracks, all the color violently draining from her face.

She stood frozen, watching helplessly as Silas walked into his office and sat behind his desk without sparing her a single glance.

“Do you honestly think I’m just here to humiliate myself?” She bit her lower lip, desperately trying to swallow down the crushing wave of humiliation and anger. “I have apologized to you over and over again. I’ve said everything there is to say. What more do you want from

me?”

The man finally raised his head. Those jet-black eyes were horrifyingly flat, as if her emotional breakdown didn’t even register as background noise.

“Since you’ve said your piece, get out.”

Silas nodded toward the exit. “The door is right there.”

Grace refused to believe he could be this utterly heartless. More importantly, she refused to believe he actually harbored any genuine feelings for that Fairchild woman.

Her fingernails dug sharply into her palms. It took her several agonizing seconds to regain her composure before she spoke again. “Silas, we grew up together. Even if we strip away any romantic history, we don’t need to treat each other like mortal enemies. Do you really need to be this cruel to me?”

*Smack.*

Silas tossed his expensive fountain pen onto the desk.

He ran his tongue along the back of his teeth, as if finally deciding to drop all polite pretenses.

“Miss Gifford.”

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