The Stand-In Who Burned the Script novel Chapter 334

But what about now?

Did the Sterling family actually agree to him being with Vivian?

Grace clutched her chest, the pain unbearable. She really didn't want to admit that she and Silas truly could never go back...

—

Richard called the police, and it wasn't long before officers arrived to assess the situation.

The hospital's surveillance had been tampered with, and no useful evidence could be gathered from the room. Given it was the middle of the night, eye-witnesses were out of the question.

There wasn't a single shred of proof tying the incident to Vivian.

Furthermore, given her current physical condition, she simply lacked the capability to commit the crime.

Vivian couldn't care less. Someone had delivered divine justice, and she was just trying hard not to clap and cheer.

She spent the entire day waking up to eat, sleeping, and waking up to eat again.

By the time she fully roused, it was already the second day.

Silas was sitting by the edge of the bed, propping his forehead up with one hand, clearly radiating exhaustion. Light filtered through the glass window, tracing the flawless line of his jaw. His entire face was stunningly handsome.

She shifted her body. It didn't hurt as much as before, but she still couldn't muster much strength.

She reached out.

She nudged Silas's arm.

He didn't move, looking as though he was in a deep sleep.

Vivian pouted, reaching higher to poke his cheek instead.

Driven past his limit, the man finally opened his eyes, his voice sexy and raspy. "What exactly do you want?"

"Nothing. Didn't we agree you'd come up and sleep together? Why are you sitting here?" Vivian pouted, giving him a resentful look. "I can't sleep well unless I'm in your arms, and you're not holding me."

"Can't sleep well? You're about to turn into a pig."

Silas raised his wrist to check his watch, his tone harsh. "If you're tired, keep sleeping. Don't throw a tantrum first thing in the morning."

He stood up. "Simon will bring you breakfast later."

Before he could even take a step, the woman grabbed his hand from behind.

The man's gaze slid over to the discarded clothes she had pulled out as evidence.

He gave a soft hum, speaking into the phone. "We'll stick with this for now. Contact me immediately if there are any changes."

Putting his phone down, Silas faced the woman in front of him.

He reached out and flicked her forehead.

"Where else could it come from but you?"

"Me?"

"I carried you to this room, and your blood stained my clothes. Bad enough you didn't wash it for me, but now you're annoying me over it. Only you would repay kindness with grief."

"..." Was that how the math worked?

"Enough, stop being annoying."

Silas pressed her back onto the bed. "I'll have the doctor come check on you. If everything's fine, you'll be discharged tomorrow."

He turned to walk out. With his eyes lowered, the hair at his temples cast half of his face in shadow, making his expression unreadable.