The Stand-In Who Burned the Script novel Chapter 14

Vivian suppressed her rising panic, desperately trying to identify the voice.

Her mouth was sealed shut with duct tape, making it impossible to speak. Frantic breaths rushed from her nose before a rough hand violently grabbed her chin.

"Tsk. With a face this stunning, why can't you just behave? Why do you constantly have to provoke people you can't afford to cross?"

"What a pity..."

"Mmph—"

Vivian wrenched her head to the side, breaking free from his iron grip.

"Heh, you've got some fire in you."

The man wasn't angry; instead, he sounded thoroughly amused. "You don't seriously think you have a chance of escaping, do you?"

"..."

"Now that you're in my hands, you're no different from a prisoner on death row."

"Tell me, if every billboard in the city displayed photos of Miss Fairchild being brutally humiliated... wouldn't that be a spectacular show?"

Vivian was usually a fearless woman, but in a situation like this, her body trembled purely on instinct.

A cold wave slithered up her spine, terrifying and venomous like a viper's tongue.

Dense beads of cold sweat broke out across her forehead, sticking her hair to her pale, luminous skin.

The man was incredibly satisfied with her reaction. He let out a loud, arrogant laugh, his freezing fingers trailing over her face once more. "Don't worry, I won't do anything to you today. I'm just here to give you a taste of what absolute submission feels like."

"But you'd better learn your place from now on. Don't provoke people you shouldn't touch. Because next time, you won't be so lucky—"

As he reached the end of his sentence, his tone turned viciously sinister.

A brutal slap struck her face.

The sharp crack echoed in the air. Vivian was nearly sent crashing to the floor, but the man yanked her back up with an iron-like grip.

Then came the second blow, and the third.

Vivian clenched her jaw so tightly that the metallic taste of blood seeped up her throat.

There was an insurmountable gap in physical strength between men and women, let alone in a horrific, one-sided assault like this.

She had no idea how much time passed before her consciousness began to fade.

She could clearly feel a warm trail of blood sliding down the corner of her mouth.

Vivian had no idea when she finally passed out. When she opened her eyes again, she was in a hospital bed.

She shot a hand out, grabbing the nurse who was about to leave. "Excuse me," she croaked. "Who brought me here?"

"A local angler."

The nurse looked at her with blatant pity.

"He called the police for you. But from what the cops said, you were in the middle of nowhere without any security cameras. Plus, the suspects were thoroughly prepared... It's going to be very hard to track them down. Once you're discharged, you should head to the station and ask them for an update."

Vivian murmured a quick thank you, then asked, "Where is he?"

It took the nurse a second to realize who she was asking about. She shook her head. "He left. The gentleman didn't leave a name or number. He probably just wanted to do a good deed anonymously."

"I see."

Vivian slowly released her grip, her expression turning deeply thoughtful.

As soon as the nurse stepped out, she forced herself to sit up, ruthlessly ripping the IV needle from the back of her hand.

Every tiny movement sent agonizing flares of pain radiating through her battered body. Swallowing the discomfort, she slid out of bed. As she walked past the window, she casually glanced outside.