The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge

Chapter 15

Victoria's voice was raw and broken, and McNeil didn't even have the courage to look back at her as he left the room.

When he returned, he was carrying a mug of warm milk.

Victoria ignored him. Once she made up her mind, nothing could sway her.

No gesture of his could move her now.

"Victoria, Violet's life has been saved. Once she's back on her feet, I'll talk to her about everything-slowly, I promise."

He sounded as if he was offering her a solemn vow, but Victoria was unmoved.

She felt the blanket lift as McNeil climbed into bed and wrapped his arms tightly around her from behind.

His body radiated warmth, like a fireplace pressed close against her back in the middle of winter.

Wave after wave of heat rolled over her, but Victoria still didn't respond.

His lips brushed closer, moving to her ear, his breath warm against her skin, grazing her cheek. They were so close, and in that moment, all those feverish memories came rushing back to Victoria like ghosts she couldn't escape.

"When she's recovered, I'll cut ties with her. I'll always be your husband-your only man. I swear it."

kissed her gently, but Victoria

hand touched her face,

then she

how much he'd neglected his young wife these past weeks, and the guilt only made him

cheeks, her shoulder, gently slipping her nightgown from her skin, searching

reflection of the tall window, their entwined bodies appeared

face him, and met his eyes

sleep with her? How many

eyes were inscrutable, deep and shadowed, his gaze almost

her, did he rush off to Violet just as eagerly? Did he treat her with the

not find all this

reply, his

from the other side. He pulled away and got out of

alone in the cold space, hearing

course. Always

didn't even want to

have to come back. Ms. Marchand is coughing up blood." It was

began pulling on his clothes immediately. Victoria felt cold, all the way to her

trouble. I

didn't even look back at her before rushing out