The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge

Chapter 1

Today marked Victoria Turner and McNeil Langford's sixth wedding anniversary. But instead of celebrating with his wife, McNeil had taken their daughter to a birthday party for his mistress.

Sitting behind the wheel of her sedan, Victoria watched in silence as her husband, their little girl, and the woman he'd hidden for six years celebrated together.

The young woman wore a bright red dress, bold and eye-catching. Their daughter was dressed in a matching outfit, the picture of innocence. McNeil stayed by their side, laughing and playing, looking every bit the proud father and devoted partner. To anyone else, they could have been mistaken for a perfect little family.

"Violet, happy birthday. This is my gift to you," McNeil said, opening an elegantly wrapped jewelry box.

Victoria's eyes locked onto the box as he slowly revealed its contents, and all the color drained from her face.

It was her mother's emerald necklace-the one McNeil had borrowed, claiming he needed it for "something important."

She remembered how, years ago, Violet Marchand had seen it around her neck and remarked offhandedly, "McNeil, I love that necklace. I wish I had one just like it."

Now, her husband was presenting the last thing her mother left her to another

woman.

"Gwyn, come here and give Violet a kiss," McNeil coaxed, gently guiding their daughter toward Violet.

child she'd carried for nine months-had never warmed to anyone but her. She couldn't

But then-

and kissed Violet right on the forehead, then wrapped her in

mommy too?" she asked, her voice sweet and

the prospect of another child. The Langford family had always passed down the

that Violet had nearly become the new Mrs. Langford-but she hadn't been able

encouraging Gwyn to bond with

unwilling to follow that line

pain, all for this. For love, she'd nearly died. And

been a tool

stared through the windshield, then picked up her phone and dialed McNeil's

for her to hear it from inside the car. She watched as McNeil looked at the caller ID-but he didn't answer. Not until Gwyneth tugged at his

Mommy? If you don't answer, she'll threaten to hurt herself again." Only then did

His voice was cold, detached-a world away from the gentle tones he

"Where have you

signaling Gwyneth to stay quiet. The three of

that only

Silence stretched between them.

grip tightened on her phone, knuckles