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The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge

Chapter 40
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Chapter 40 McNeil remained perfectly composed, his tone calm as he replied, "We won't be having another child for now." Madonna let out a cold laugh. "Or maybe you can't have any more children at all. Maybe you should see a doctor." The old man exhaled sharply through his nose. "Victoria, what do you say?" He needed an explanation. He'd given the Langford family fifty percent of the company shares for the sake of a grandson. If that wasn't enough, then Victoria's ambition was simply insatiable.

[I'm in the middle of filing for divorce with McNeil. There's no chance for another child.] Victoria wanted to tell the old man the truth directly, but under the table, McNeil squeezed her hand in warning, his gaze sharp.

McNeil looked the old man right in the eye. "It's my fault. I've been buried in work, hardly at hwith Victoria. If we're going to have another baby, it'll have to wait until I can make space for family. I missed Gwyn's birth, and I don't want Victoria to go through that pain alone again." Madonna's expression shifted, her eyes narrowing. Why did Victoria always seem to get all the attention? The old man's face softened considerably. He nodded. "You should be there for your wife." Victoria fell silent. Gwyneth, exhausted from playing, was brought over to the main table by a housekeeper. She plopped herself down between McNeil and Victoria, effectively separating them.

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During dinner, Gwyneth whispered secrets to McNeil, only turning to Victoria for help when she couldn't reach something tasty. Victoria took care of her daughter's every whim, barely eating herself not that she had any appetite, anyway.

Throughout the meal, Victoria focused on making sure Gwyneth was happy and full. Only after the little girl finished eating and left the table did she finally put down her fork.

Afterward, the old man summoned McNeil to the study. Bored, Victoria sat on the sofa in the living room, scrolling through her phone. Videos and news headlines flickered past, and before she knew it, thad slipped away.

Suddenly, a friend request popped up: [Ms. Miller, this is Yulia, your housekeeper.] Victoria's thumb hovered over the screen. The profile picture showed a dignified woman. She stared at it until her eyes turned red.

Then another message appeared, this tfrom Yasmine: "Ms. Turner, Yulia Morris askedfor your contact info..." Victoria exited the new friend notification without accepting Yulia's request. She replied to Yasmine: "Got it." Her father's mistress had kept a low profile for years after her mother's death, never once rushing to take the wife's place. But now that Victoria was back, the woman clearly couldn't sit still any longer.

It was understandable, really. Yulia had been with Simms since she was barely more than a girl, waiting all these years, watching her chance finally draw near. No way she'd let it slip away now.

Victoria ignored Yulia's request, her expression unreadable. Thankfully, the other woman got the hint and didn't try again.

As night fell, Victoria decided it was tto go hand went to find McNeil in the study.

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Passing through a side hall, she

spotted him on the phone. He'd already left the old man's study and now stood under the soft hallway NO lights his suit perfectly tailored, one hand in his pocket, the other holding his phone. Victoria watched quietly from a shadowed corner. She couldn't hear the other side of the call, but McNeil smiled gently, his voice deep and smooth.

She slowly approached, just in tto hear him say, "I'll be hsoon. Get srest."

He hung up, and as he turned, he caught sight of Victoria's cold, m impassive face. He hesitated, fingers tightening around his phone. "What are you doing hiding here? Where's Gwyn? Weren't you supposed to be watching her?"

Victoria's lips curled in a faint, mocking smile. "She's not a baby She doesn't need a babysitter En.

twenty-four seven." She glanced past McNeil, her voice calm and unfeeling. "I just cto ask when you're leaving. That's all."