The Stand-In Who Burned the Script novel Chapter 440

Walking out of the hospital, Zoe looked back and asked, "Miss, why don't we use him to find a solution? He might be garbage, but his medical connections are solid."

Vivian pulled open the passenger side door and got in.

Only after Zoe started the engine did she reply flatly, "You do realize he only studied medicine for Amara, right?"

"Right."

"Disgusting."

It wasn't about whether she still cared about him or not. Vivian simply found it absolutely repulsive.

Zoe didn't ask any more questions and drove them back to the company.

As soon as they arrived, the receptionist suddenly informed them that a woman had been waiting in the reception room to see Vivian for quite some time.

"A woman?"

Vivian's first thought was Scarlett.

But that woman had been carried off by Zane last night. There was no way she would be sitting patiently in a reception room waiting for her.

Vivian nodded. "Bring in two cups of tea. I'll be right there."

She stopped by her office first, then grabbed her phone and headed over.

Looking through the glass wall from the outside, Vivian saw the woman sitting inside. How should she describe her... elegant, poised, and radiating a wealth that was settled deep into her bones.

She wore a simple black dress paired with a single strand of white pearls. Her hair was pulled back into a flawless updo, looking the picture of dignity.

Although she took excellent care of herself, anyone with a bit of life experience could tell she was of a certain age.

Late forties? Early fifties?

Vivian wasn't sure.

Pushing the door open while she analyzed the situation, Vivian offered a polite smile. "Hello. I was told you were looking for me."

The woman looked up. Her delicate, strikingly beautiful face made Vivian pause for a fraction of a second.

She didn't speak. Instead, she looked Vivian up and down.

It was a sharp, calculating gaze.

"Of course. It's completely understandable."

Seeing how cooperative she was, Cynthia's guard lowered a fraction. She finally offered a sliver of a genuine smile, though it wasn't a warm one. It still carried an air of absolute superiority.

"I know his grandfather was rushing him to get married. At first, I thought he was lying to me, because I never pegged my son as the impulsive type. But seeing you today, I think I understand."

Men—

They were visual creatures, after all.

Putting everything else aside, this woman's physical appearance was vastly superior to Grace Gifford's. It wasn't even close.

Without exaggerating, you could search the entire country and barely find a handful of women with looks like hers.

Vivian knew there was a layer of mockery beneath those words, but she played dumb. She sat up straight, neither arrogant nor subservient, looking exactly like a humble junior waiting to be lectured.

"To be completely honest, I don't like you."

Cynthia's eyes were icy.

"But since you've already married Silas, there's nothing more I can say. Being beautiful is a skill of its own. However, I have one condition, and you will follow it."