The Stand-In Who Burned the Script novel Chapter 347

The sheer force of the slap sent Vivian toppling sideways. For a few agonizing seconds, she completely lost all sensation, the world narrowing down to a harsh, deafening ring in her ears.

She shook her head, the blinding spots of color finally beginning to fade from her vision.

She turned back around.

In that split second, Grace felt a chilling wave of pure murderous intent.

She instinctively looked down at her own hand, her words stumbling over themselves in terror. "You... if my cousin had really wanted to force himself on you, do you honestly think you could have escaped? Besides, with his background... you'd be lucky to be with him! Stop acting like you're some untouchable saint!"

Vivian's face remained entirely devoid of emotion.

The struck side of her cheek was already swelling, the stark contrast making her look beautifully broken.

After a long moment, a low whisper drifted from her lips. "An untouchable saint?"

Grace pressed her lips tightly together in absolute silence.

For a fleeting second earlier, she had felt a twinge of regret. But as an elite heiress, her deeply ingrained pride vehemently refused to let her show it.

She had slapped her, so what?

Was she honestly supposed to be afraid of a nobody like Vivian?

Vivian slowly sat up, her movements deliberate and unhurried. That lazy, calculated sharpness was far more terrifying than outright rage.

Grace took a subconscious half-step back—but it was only a half-step.

"Grace."

Vivian rubbed her right palm with her left thumb, her voice floating like smoke. "I know you rich kids grew up drowning in privilege. You honestly believe the entire world exists just for you to consume. If you want something, you just take it. If you can't take it, you destroy it. In your twisted reality, you actually think you can get away with anything as long as you want it badly enough."

"Your cousin decided he wanted me, so I was just supposed to obediently spread my legs for him. And if I didn't, I was an ungrateful bitch."

"I just got incredibly lucky that someone rescued me, so clearly, I have no right to hold him accountable."

"You people are truly..."

As if entirely unable to find the words to describe her utter disgust, Vivian gave a soft, chilling laugh.

Her crystal-clear eyes held absolutely no emotion—the eerie, suffocating calm right before a hurricane. "But here's the thing about me... I absolutely loathe bullies, and I certainly don't have a habit of just taking a beating. So, Miss Gifford, I'm afraid you're about to suffer a bit."

The moment the words left her mouth.

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