The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge

Chapter 5

Chapter 5

A fire crackled in the hearth, its warmth doing little to chase away the chill that had settled over the room.

Victoria swirled the red wine in her glass, bringing it to her lips for the occasional sip, her gaze distant and unfocused.

Out in the hallway, Haley stealthily dialed Yasmine. "Yasmine, you need to come see Mrs. Langford. It's barely dawn and she's already drinking."

Two glasses in, the wine was cold on Victoria's tongue, but her heart felt even colder.

She had just gotten off the phone with the bridal shop.

The plan was simple: on their anniversary, the dress would be delivered in the morning. That evening, she'd wear it to the studio, where she and McNeil would have their portrait taken—a keepsake for another year together.

But then, a minor hitch: McNeil had bailed last minute, and she'd somehow forgotten all about the dress herself.

And now-

"Mrs. Langford, we've already delivered the gown. You didn't receive it?"

Victoria frowned. She certainly hadn't.

"Where exactly did you send it?"

Peak Lane. Mr. Langford's

glass toppled, and a splash of

a vivid stain-like the wound blooming in her chest, raw and impossible to

Peak Lane.

McNeil's secret love nest.

had no idea. But she'd always followed the advice of the old folks: "Before

McNeil treated her and their child well, there was no point obsessing

"A man straying now and

Mrs. Langford, and nobody could take that

But now-

and now

just turn

Haley into the living room, she was greeted by the sight of three empty wine bottles at Victoria's feet. The glass had rolled away, and the carpet

draped across the chaise lounge, eyes glazed but not entirely lost- mostly sober, but with just

scent of

reserved, distant from the world, content to be Mrs.

never seen her as the trophy wife the tabloids made her out

last time Victoria had spiraled like this-lost

Langford—" Yasmine called

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