The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge

Chapter 8

Violet casually pulled Gwyneth into her embrace. Gwyneth stared at Victoria, her eyes filled with a cold, unfamiliar disgust that cut deeper than words.

"Mommy, I'm with Violet and Daddy now, and the three of us are so happy together. Why do you always have to bother Violet and bully her? I really wish Violet were my real mommy-she's so much kinder and sweeter than you are."

Standing beside Violet, McNeil caught a glimpse of the wedding dress, and for a moment-just a fleeting moment-he felt a pang of guilt and pity for Victoria.

But when he glanced up and saw the stubborn, unyielding look on Victoria's face, his own expression hardened.

In his memory, Victoria had always been gentle and gracious. All these years of marriage, he'd never once heard her raise her voice or lose her composure with anyone.

And Violet only had a year to live. Why did Victoria have to be so harsh?

"Apologize."

The word hung in the air, stunning even Yasmine into silence.

Langford lost his mind? Was he really telling Mrs. Langford

Yasmine reached out just

to speak. "She wore my mother's necklace without asking, put on my wedding dress, and now both my husband and

Victoria-was printed right there on the marriage certificate. How absurd, she thought, to ask a

really have gone too far today," McNeil said, his tone clipped. "Violet didn't take your mother's necklace, and as for the wedding dress, I'll get

that, he gently lifted Violet into

the next instant, the dress-a masterpiece worth a fortune, adorned with thousands of sparkling diamonds-tore with a

shower. The brilliance stabbed at Victoria's eyes, each glimmer like

to ruin it." Violet's eyes brimmed with tears, wide and frantic, like a frightened fawn. She

gaze flicked over the diamonds littering the floor, cold and dark. "It's

thundered in

burning from the central heating, yet her

diamonds hand-sewn by master artisans-all for the moment