The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge novel Chapter 41

McNeil struggled to keep his temper in check. “Do we really have to talk like this?”

Victoria turned away, refusing to engage.

It was already late by the time they left the old house. Gwyneth, exhausted, curled up against McNeil and soon drifted off to sleep.

Victoria sat quietly beside them, lost in her thoughts.

McNeil’s phone screen lit up several times, but he didn’t answer. Victoria suspected it was Violet calling, probably wondering why he hadn’t come home yet, and getting impatient.

He had bought a house just to live with her, yet still insisted on pretending nothing was going on between them. Victoria couldn’t fathom why men acted like this—what was he trying to prove, and to whom?

When they arrived home, McNeil carried Gwyneth inside, while Victoria paused at the door.

Noticing her hesitation, McNeil stopped and glanced back. “Aren’t you coming in?”

Victoria’s gaze fell on their sleeping daughter in his arms. She’d overheard McNeil call his father earlier to say he’d be home late—she knew exactly where he planned to go. If he left in the middle of the night, Gwyneth would be alone unless he took her along, which was impossible now that she was fast asleep.

After a moment’s deliberation, Victoria followed McNeil inside.

McNeil tucked Gwyneth into bed. Victoria had slept in her daughter’s room the night before and hadn’t set foot in the master bedroom since. Most of her belongings were already back at her sister Simms’s place, save for a few spare clothes that Yasmine had dropped off; there was barely anything left of hers in McNeil’s house.

Just then, McNeil’s phone screen lit up again. He quickly stepped away from Victoria and disappeared around the corner to take the call in private.

Gwyneth slept soundly. Victoria showered in her daughter’s bathroom, changed into a nightgown, and slipped into bed beside her. As soon as Victoria lay down, Gwyneth instinctively reached out and wrapped her little arms around her mother’s neck.

No matter what happened, her daughter would always be the center of her world. The moment Gwyneth snuggled into her embrace, Victoria melted. She pressed a gentle kiss to Gwyneth’s cheek.

Half-asleep, Gwyneth murmured, “Ms. Marchand—”