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?"

Manor, Winding Peak

glass toppled, and

pristine carpet, blossoming into a vivid stain-like the wound blooming in

Peak Lane. Midhill

McNeil's secret love nest.

lived there for six years. McNeil probably thought Victoria had no idea. But she'd always followed the advice of the old folks: "Before marriage, keep your

her and their child well, there was

man straying now and then is just how

nobody

But now-

to his sweetheart, turned her daughter against her, and now

time, she couldn't just turn

sight of three empty wine bottles at Victoria's feet.

but not entirely lost- mostly sober, but with just enough

scent of alcohol as

from the world, content to be Mrs. Langford. Then, out of nowhere,

the trophy wife the tabloids made

like this-lost and hollow-eyed-she'd nearly taken her own

Yasmine called

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