The Stand-In Who Burned the Script novel Chapter 516

The moment those words hung in the air, the expressions on both Dominic and Amara's faces froze entirely. Amara was especially furious... This bitch was practically pointing a finger at her nose and threatening her! How was she supposed to sit here and pretend to play happy sisters?!

"Vivian, don't push it!"

Amara shot up from her chair, utterly enraged, completely losing her grip on her sanity.

"You scammed Dad and stole his most profitable company right out from under his nose, and he didn't even punish you! We came here today to offer you an olive branch, so don't be an ungrateful bitch!"

This was the first time Amara had ever let her true, vicious colors show in front of their father.

But then again, the relationship between Dominic and Vivian was already damaged beyond repair. Acting sweet didn't matter anymore.

The private room fell dead silent for a moment just as a waitress walked in to serve the food. Seeing the hostile standoff, she looked terrified, frozen in place, unsure whether to serve the plates or run.

Vivian gave her a nonchalant glance, silently urging her forward. The waitress quickly dropped the dishes on the table and practically sprinted out of the room.

"An ungrateful bitch..."

Vivian casually inspected her nails, looking entirely unbothered.

"That's a fantastic phrase, though I really think it applies to the two of you. Where do you get the nerve to sit here and pretend we're family?"

A dark cloud of rage flashed through Dominic's eyes, but he kept his gaze lowered, masking his exact thoughts.

He had arranged this meeting today as a final attempt to negotiate.

But if she refused to cooperate...

Then he would have to use his absolute last resort.

"Dad, look at her!"

Amara didn't notice her father's shifting mood, entirely consumed by her hatred for Vivian. "You're going to rot in hell for treating your family like this!"

Vivian couldn't be bothered to argue with her. She kept her heavy gaze fixed squarely on Dominic, waiting to see when her dearest father would finally pull out his trump card.

Minutes ticked by. The air in the room was suffocatingly quiet.

When neither of them spoke, Amara began to panic, feeling like she was crawling out of her skin.

What was going on?

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