The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge

McNeil's hands stilled mid-slice, the sharp knife hovering over a half-cut pear. He turned, eyes darkening as he leveled a cold look at Victoria.

"Victoria, is it really that unbearable to be alone? I'm still a person here, you know. If you need help, you could just ask me why do you insist on running to that man who left you stranded during your date?"

He spat out the words in a single breath, frustration flickering across his features. For once, his composure broke, and something raw and resentful leaked through.

Victoria's patience snapped.

"Do you know why I let you stay?" Her voice was icy calm, almost detached. "You think it's for the kids? No, McNeil. You give yourself too much credit."

She met his gaze, unwavering. "The moment I decided to divorce you, there was no turning back."

Her tone was eerily even, as if she were recounting someone else's story. "Do you remember how you used to leave me alone at home, no matter how much I yelled or pleaded, just so you could run after Violet?"

Over the years, disappointment had worn her down; by now, nothing he did could surprise her. The last shreds of hope had vanished long ago.

McNeil's expression hardened, the walls he'd so carefully built over the past months cracking. He'd given up everything, even his company, just to stay close to her and the kids. Not for this: not for more blame, more hatred.

"Are you really going to bring this up again? I've told you a thousand times-there was nothing between me and Violet."

Victoria's eyes were cold, utterly devoid of affection. There was no love left-but no hatred, either.

"Whether you had something with Violet, or anyone else, isn't my concern," she said quietly. "What you do with other women is your business, not mine. McNeil, don't bring it up-I don't want to hear it."

He grabbed her wrist. "Then what do you want to hear? Just tell me."

She gave a weary, almost mocking smile. "I don't want to hear anything. You never said a word all those years, but your actions spoke for themselves. Back then you didn't bother to explain, and now I'm not interested."

Victoria freed herself from his grasp, her voice cool and resolute. "I don't owe you an explanation for anything I do. And do me a favor-stop following me around. It's pathetic."

She turned to leave, pausing just long enough to bark an order. "Pick up Chris and Celia."

Victoria glanced at the two nannies. McNeil's face went rigid.

"I'll say it again," she said, voice sharp. "I'm taking the kids out for dinner. If you keep trying to control my life, don't bother coming over to cook anymore. I've got Chris and Celia-if you don't want Gwyneth, hand her back to me as well."

She nodded at the nannies. "Let's go."

As she was about to leave, Gwyneth emerged from her room, catching sight of the argument.

"Daddy, Mommy, are you fighting again?"

Victoria forced herself to rein in her temper, softening her tone for her daughter. "No, sweetheart, Daddy and Mommy aren't fighting. I'm just taking your brother and sister out for a bit-want to come?"

Gwyneth's eyes lit up. "Yes!"

McNeil could only watch helplessly as Victoria swept out the door with all three children. A few years ago, he would have torn the house apart in a fit of rage. Now, he just stood there, motionless.

The housekeepers huddled nearby, bracing for an explosion. But instead, McNeil stayed. He quietly picked up the pieces of a vase Victoria had knocked over, carefully sweeping up every shard.

The staff exchanged disbelieving

glances. They'd worked for plenty of wealthy families, and usually it was the husband lashing out, the wife shrinking away. But here, Mr. Langford let Ms. Turner yell at him without so much as a word in return, cleaning up after her like nothing had happened.

One whispered, “Did Ms. Turner save Mr. Langford's life or something?"

"Must have," another replied. "He's so mild-tempered-just watched his wife leave with all the kids."

McNeil sat in silence at the kitchen island, lost in thought, when his phone buzzed.

"Mr. Langford, about Mr. Stein-"

"Send me the address," McNeil cut in flatly.noveldrama

He hung up before the bodyguard could finish. A new message popped up-a location pin.

McNeil snatched his car keys and strode out without even grabbing his coat.

The maids watched, wide-eyed. They'd never seen Ms. Turner argue with Mr. Langford before—much less win so completely. Mr. Langford had barely raised his voice, but Ms. Turner hadn't held back at all.

Some of the staff shook their heads. Even if they were divorced, wasn't Ms. Turner being a bit harsh? Compared to the other couples they'd seen, Mr. Langford treated his ex-wife better than most husbands treated their wives.

He was handsome, clearly well-off, and always kept the kitchen stocked. What

more could she possibly want?

Meanwhile, McNeil pulled up outside a restaurant and spotted Stein's car parked out front. Rage surged through him, hot and blinding.