The Stand-In Who Burned the Script novel Chapter 356

Even though it was an unknown number, 'Central Hospital' and 'three years ago' made it obvious. There was no one else but Jonah Granger.

Jonah didn't like her cold tone, nor did he care for the emotionless way she looked at him.

He frowned and set down his pen.

Leaning back in his chair, he took on a completely relaxed posture.

"Vivian, can't you just speak to me nicely?"

"What gives you the right to demand I speak nicely to you?"

Vivian scoffed, shooting him an icy glare. "Jonah, you know better than I do why things ended up this way between us. What's the point of playing the devoted lover now?"

Jonah's fingers curled tightly against his thigh, his eyes darkening.

"But honestly, I don't want to waste another ounce of energy on you. Tell me what you know, and we'll consider this debt settled."

She still had no leads on the person who arranged the meeting at The Meridian Bistro three years ago.

If Jonah genuinely knew, it would serve to somewhat cancel out his past sins.

"Other than that, do you really... not have a single thing to say to me?"

Jonah's voice was heavy, as if he was suppressing intense emotion.

"What exactly do you want me to say?"

Vivian smiled, but the amusement didn't reach her eyes. "You hurt me for Amara Fairchild, deceived me for three years, and you expect me to fall to my knees in gratitude?"

He was lucky she hadn't destroyed his entire family.

"I'm sorry..."

Jonah gritted his teeth, a stormy tempest brewing in his deep gaze. "I said, if you're angry, you can break my legs. Will that make it right?"

"Breaking your legs is supposed to erase everything that happened?"

Vivian arched an eyebrow. "I can't be bothered to get my hands dirty."

She was truly sick of this pointless conversation. Closing her eyes briefly, she swallowed her rising impatience and said, "Are you going to tell me or not? If you're not, I'm leaving."

Just as she stood up, the man's urgent voice called out from behind her.

Vivian had witnessed it all, even feeling the urge to run up and ruin everything for them.

But in the end, she didn't.

She did nothing.

After leaving, with nowhere to go, she had wandered the streets of California until she passed a bar and saw someone being brutally beaten.

Vivian had crouched across the street with complete apathy, resting her chin in her hands as she watched the entire ordeal unfold, catching the resentful, defiant glare in the boy's eyes.

She had let out a soft sigh and eventually walked over.

"Why are you just as pathetic as I am?"

The boy was already losing consciousness, covered in blood.

The decision to save him took mere seconds.

Not long after they arrived at the hospital, a man in a sharp suit appeared, politely thanking her and asking for her name.

Vivian couldn't let anyone know she was in California, so she tossed out the first name that came to mind: "My name is Amara Fairchild."