The Stand-In Who Burned the Script novel Chapter 9

Vivian didn't move an inch. She stood elegantly at the base of the stairs in her slip dress, radiating an intoxicating, dangerous allure. She possessed an indescribable aura, like someone who had descended from the heavens—or walked straight out of hellfire.

She didn't blink, locking eyes with the two of them.

"You want an apology?"

Grabbing a heavy ceramic flowerpot from the Roman pillar beside her, Vivian hurled it straight at Jonah. "Then let my dear boyfriend help me blow off some steam first!"

"No...!"

A sharp scream pierced the air, followed by a sickening thud.

Amara threw herself in front of Jonah at the last possible second. The heavy pot smashed violently against her back.

"Amara!"

Jonah's face drained of color, absolute terror flashing in his eyes.

He shot Vivian a look so lethal it could have torn her to shreds.

Without another word, he scooped Amara into his arms and sprinted toward the door, roaring at the driver, "Get in the car! To the hospital!"

Vivian's jaw muscles ticked. She closed her eyes and let out a long, shuddering breath.

Men.

They only ever cared about the women they truly loved.

But since she had already decided to discard him, why should she care?

Vivian composed herself, went upstairs to change, and headed out.

Fifth Avenue was a premier luxury shopping destination, entirely populated by the wealthy elite.

Chloe pulled up to the entrance in her Mercedes G-Wagon. Her sharp, jaw-length bob perfectly framed her face, and her diamond earrings caught the sunlight beautifully.

She casually pulled down her sunglasses, turning her head with a vibrant, red-lipped grin.

"Hey gorgeous, need a ride?"

Vivian wasn't in the mood to joke. She beckoned the valet over and said, "Get out of the car. I'm paying for everything today."

Chloe's eyes lit up immediately. She hopped out and tossed the keys to the valet.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify