The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge

Chapter 11

The fire in the villa's hearth flickered, casting restless shadows across Victoria's flawless profile. The shifting light danced over her features, highlighting a beauty that seemed almost otherworldly.

Her long, dark hair tumbled over one side of her face, half-veiling her expression as she lingered over a single line in the book resting in her lap.

*"A man's childhood sweetheart is the ultimate threat to his wife. He'll never forget that first love, and after six years of marriage, I realize I wasn't even a stand-in. I was nothing at all."*

Victoria couldn't help slipping into the story, recalling every bittersweet memory with McNeil. She was utterly absorbed, the romance on the page blurring with the pain in her own heart.

"What are you reading?"

The fresh scent of cedar drifted over her, unmistakably McNeil's. His arms slid gently around her waist. She startled at the sudden touch, her body tensing, but she didn't bother to look back at him.

She kept her eyes on the fire, listening to the logs crackle-a sound that blended with the snowstorm outside, making the midnight silence even deeper.

her book. Without thinking, Victoria tossed it into the flames. It arced in the air, landing with a soft thud before the fire eagerly consumed it,

tired. I'm going

him off. The embrace that once thrilled

started spending more time away, she'd wake from dreams of him tangled up with Violet. The

still

loved him. Otherwise, she never would've agreed to save

scales tip-just a little-back

mind: he wasn't going to

time. McNeil decided it was time to

closer, lowering his chin to her shoulder and breathing in the

been more than two weeks since they'd last been together-Violet's needs, their daughter's worries, everything had kept them apart. The last time they'd tried,

not home tonight. Let me carry you to bed,

was recovering well, with

Victoria his time-to thank her, to comfort her, in every way she