The Stand-In Who Burned the Script novel Chapter 91

Chapter 91

Simon Young didn’t know how to cover for him, but a sudden ringing broke the silence in the

car.

He sighed in relief and picked up the phone.

“Mr. Sterling, it’s… Old Mr. Sterling.”

Silas Sterling’s brow furrowed tightly. He reached out, took the phone, and held it to his ear

“Hello.”

“Young Master, it’s a disaster!”

It was George Caldwell’s voice. “The old man heard you absolutely refuse to marry Miss Fairchild, and in a fit of rage… he jumped from the second floor.”

Silas’s brow twitched. “Is he dead?”

How could the boy say that?

George glanced at the old man sitting next to him, eating grapes, and said, “No, but he’s badly hurt. You should come to the hospital and see him!”

“Since he’s already at the hospital, leave everything to the doctors. Will my being there miraculously cure him?”

“Well…”

“Tell him I’m not coming.”

Just as George was about to speak, a hand reached over and snatched the phone. The old man huffed with robust energy, “You ungrateful brat, you don’t even care about your own grandfather now, do you?”

“I’m telling you, if you don’t come, I’ll immediately throw a three-day banquet and invite every unmarried woman in Northside to set you up on blind dates! I’ll even have the media

broadcast it live!”

“You don’t like the Fairchild girl? Then pick someone you do like. If you can’t find one in

Northside, search the whole country. I want to see just how good your taste is!”

”

Silas closed his eyes and hung up.

The oppressive atmosphere in the car reached its peak.

Simon carefully glanced in the rearview mirror, feeling as though the phone in the boss’s hand was about to be crushed into pieces.

Chapter 91

Silas’s expression was full of irritation, even tinged with a predatory hostility.

This wasn’t the first time the old man had pulled a stunt like this.

Fake suicide, hunger strikes.

He had used every trick in the book to force Silas into marriage.

As people got older, they hated being defied by the younger generation. Under the guise of “it’s for your own good,” they acted shamelessly.

This time it was fake, but what if one day he actually meant it?

Silas let out a heavy breath. “Turn around.”

There was a dashed line ahead, so Simon quickly spun the steering wheel and made a

U-turn.

In a suite at Northside’s finest seven-star hotel, the room was spacious and offered the best

view of the city’s night skyline.

Vivian Fairchild stepped out of the shower, slipped on her clothes, and stood by the window.

The dim light from behind traced the stunning curves of her figure.

Her distant gaze was fixed on an unknown point, the city lights reflecting in her clear, bright

eyes.

After a while, her phone buzzed.

It was a message from Zoe Hunt.

[Miss Fairchild, do you need me to wait for you?]

She sighed softly and replied with a voice message, “I’ll be down in a bit.”

It seemed that man wasn’t coming back.

Walking over to open the door, Vivian was startled by the person standing outside.

She froze for a moment, then a radiant smile broke across her face.

“Mr. Sterling, did you leave something behind?”

“Come out.”

“For what?”

With just those two sentences, the man seemed to have lost his patience. He reached out, grabbed Vivian’s arm with precision, and pulled her forward.

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Vivian collided with his chest out of momentum, only to be deliberately pushed away a

second later.

“We both know exactly why you climbed into my bed, Miss Fairchild. Since that’s the case, why put on this act?”

He let go of her and said coldly, “Let’s go. I’ll give you what you want.”

At midnight, Vivian was brought to the CEO’s office at Sterling Enterprises.

The assistant, Simon Young, was reasonably polite as he placed a piece of paper and a pen

in front of her.

“You should be well aware, Miss Fairchild, that there is no affection between us. How long this marriage will last is unknown.”

Vivian raised an eyebrow. “And?”

“And.”

The man tapped his long fingers on the desk twice. “Follow the rules of the game, understood?”

Simon chimed in, “Miss Fairchild, this paper is a blank check from the boss. You can write down any conditions you want.”

Businessmen always knew how to weigh the pros and cons.

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