The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge

"Brother-in-law?"

No one seemed sure who blurted it out, but the moment Lyndon shot them a deadly glare, everyone instantly clammed up.

McNeil rolled the phrase around in his mind. Brother-in-law? Who's the sister in question? And what's up with this whole odd crowd?

"We came to see you, boss. How's my godson doing today? Was he good? Didn't kick too much, did he?"

"We brought a ton of toys, and some racing videos too. He can watch all the classics, so when he's born, we'll take him straight to the racetrack."

McNeil listened as they all called Victoria "boss," his eyes scanning the room in search of her.

"Who exactly are you people? And who invited you here?" he demanded, his face darkening.

Lyndon's lips curled in a mocking smile. "Does it matter who we are? What matters is that you're the ex-husband now, aren't you?"

He clapped a hand on McNeil's shoulder-just for a second-because in the next moment, Victoria appeared, practically ushered in by the whole group like some kind of reluctant celebrity.

The gifts piled up at her feet, threatening to swallow her whole.

"Boss, look-brand new games, and a limited-edition racecar model!"

"Mine's even better-open mine first!"

Victoria's head spun at the sight. "I told you all to stop bringing more stuff. The spare room's already overflowing."

"No way," someone countered. "Once our godson is born, he'll wake up every day to a pack of racing-obsessed uncles. He's bound to be the greatest driver the world's ever seen."

One of them had already made himself comfortable at the dining table, waving McNeil over.

"Hey, ex-husband, come join us. I've heard your name for years, but this is the first time I've seen you in person. That's something, huh?"

It was impossible to tell if he was being sincere or just taking a jab.

McNeil looked at this group of young, confident men and felt his mood sour even further.

"Victoria, is there something else you haven't told me?” he asked, his tone hard. What was she really like six years ago? Hanging out with these... hooligans? Clearly, there was a lot he didn't know.

Lyndon glanced at him with lazy indifference. "I doubt Vicky's hiding anything. More likely, Mr. Langford here is just too busy and important to ever listen."

Lyndon dropped into the only empty seat, and Victoria was gently tugged into the chair beside him.

The long dining table was packed, Victoria at the head, every corner taken― except for McNeil, who was left standing.

"Sorry, looks like there's no room. Maybe you can eat later?" someone said, not sounding sorry at all.

Victoria looked at McNeil with wide, innocent eyes, but he only responded with a cold stare, glancing over the group.

A quick count-twelve of them. Who were these people, really? And what exactly was their connection to Victoria?

"Whatever makes you happy," McNeil muttered, turning toward the door. So this was the result of his morning's efforts entertaining a bunch of unpredictable strangers.

"Whoa, ex-husband, you're leaving already?"

"Come on, don't be so uptight. We're just messing around. Can't you take a joke?"

"Yeah, I doubt it. Back in the day, you left our boss at home while you ran around with one escort after another, always complaining, always needing attention, scared of the dark-never gave her the time of day."

McNeil paused mid-step, his movements suddenly heavy and awkward.noveldrama

"Don't get so worked up, man. Be reasonable. The boss is just entertaining some guests—she's not cheating on anybody. And, let's be real, in her current relationship status, she can do whatever she wants."

Their laughter rang out behind him, brash and unrestrained, grating on his nerves.

Victoria said nothing in his defense, calmly sipping her soup at the table.

McNeil glanced back, his expression impossible to read. The group ignored him, focused on their meal and each other.

"I'll be across the hall. When you're all done eating, I'll come back and help tidy up."