The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge

Chapter 339 McNeil watched Victoria, noting the way she leaned in, focused and intent-so at ease with Paul, so utterly normal. But for sreason, every the looked at them together, a violent urge flickered inside him. He fished a cigarette from his pocket, but, unable to light it in the office, just let it hang between his lips. He could have gone to the smoking area. But Paul was still there, with Victoria. He didn't trust that combination. Not one bit.

Even the smallest smile from Victoria made McNeil want to tear Paul limb from limb.

His phone vibrated in his pocket, breaking through his simmering thoughts. He checked the screen. Violet.

"Yeah?" McNeil answered, making no effort to step away from the others.

"McNeil, I'm being discharged today. Are you coming to pickup?" Violet's voice was soft, hopeful.

"I'll send someone for you," he replied, his tone flat.

There was a pause on the other end, and then, as if afraid he'd hang up, Violet pressed, "But... aren't you coming yourself?" Paul's voice drifted over, clear enough to carry through the phone. "Victoria, could you showthat again?" Victoria chimed in, eager and attentive, asking for guidance as well.

Violet heard every word.

"Who are you with?" she asked, though she already suspected.

McNeil didn't bother to hide it. "Victoria." He left out Paul-no need to mention someone Violet didn't know.

Violet bit her lip, her voice trembling on the edge of tears. "So... you're too busy with her to cget me, is that it?" She hadn't meant to ask, but the words spilled out anyway.

McNeil's brow creased, irritation tightening his features. "You're overthinking it. I've got things to do. I'm hanging up now." He didn't bother to explain further, just ended the call.

Whatever Paul and Victoria had just talked about, McNeil had missed it, distracted by Violet's call. He stood off to the side, watching the two of them, convinced there was ssecret, flirtatious understanding flickering between their eyes.

Were they plotting a date right under his nose? His cousin Paul was young, good-looking-almost too good-looking, with features so striking they could outshine most women.

And Victoria? Just last night, she'd been the life of the party, surrounded by handsmen, moving her body with a confidence and allure McNeil hadn't known she possessed. He'd never forget the sight of her dancing- sexy, uninhibited, impossible to look away from.

If he hadn't been so furious last night, he would have dragged her straight to bed and made her his, over and over.

The memory sent his mind spinning, his thoughts slipping in directions they shouldn't.

His phone buzzed again-Violet, once more. This time, he silenced it and shoved it deep into his pocket, ignoring it completely.

"That's it, time's up for today," McNeil said, glancing at his watch, his voice cool and controlled. "How much longer do we have?" Paul caught his meaning right away. "Two more days, I think." McNeil nodded. "Let's not take weekends off. Instead of an hour a day, let's just do two hours tomorrow and finish it up. Keep it streamlined." He'd set the schedule in stone. Paul looked as if he'd just been granted a royal pardon, practically ready to drop to his knees in gratitude.

Victoria opened her mouth, protesting, "No. An hour is an hour-I have other plans." McNeil shot her a look, pulling the unlit cigarette from his mouth. "It's settled. You can leave now." The words were aimed at Paul, but Victoria felt the sting.

McNeil never changed his mind, and Victoria knew it. Still, she couldn't deny these lessons had been useful-her gdesign was moving forward faster than ever.

But McNeil was already in a foul mood; Victoria could see it. She knew exactly how angry her antics last night had made him. But what was he so upset about? He and Violet were the perfect loving couple, always together. She'd only lost her head a handful of times.

Now, she'd stopped loving him. She could love toy boys, love her work, the rivers and the seas, flowers and trees-why waste love on a man? Victoria was starting to think that men were the least deserving creatures on earth. The more you cared for them, the crueler they became.

She gathered her things and, as she passed McNeil, spoke in a frostyn tone, Mr. Langford, would you mind stepping aside? I need to get back to my desk." He was blocking her path; climbing over him would be undignified, especially in the office. Any odd move would raise suspicions.

Suddenly, she was terrified someone might find out they were married. Who knew if last night's chaos would happen again? Maybe it was true-when a woman has money, she can finally enjoy the freedoms men have always taken for granted.

She was still lost in thought when a wave of nausea twisted her stomach.

Victoria winced. Great, morning sickness again.

Of all times, now just when life was getting interesting. Last night, after Ailie got home, she'd called Victoria, laughing and swearing at her in the sbreath. The party had been wild, right up until the police raid; she and Yasmine had nearly jumped out a window in panic. Thank god the cops only rounded up the guys. If they'd dragged her off, she would never have shown her face at work again.

McNeil shot her a quick, reluctant glance and finally stepped aside.

He noticed something off about her. Was she really so unwilling to be near him? The thought lodged itself in his throat, thick and heavy.

Victoria hurried out, clutching her things, desperate to make it to the bathroom before she threw up.

McNeil called after her, voice tight.

|| "Victoria, do you really hatethat much?" "Yeah," she muttered, clamping a hand over her mouth. "I'm about to be sick." McNeil stared after her, speechless. The phone in his hand cracked under the pressure of his grip.