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."

gently, but Victoria

touched her face, his fingers cool and

she started to

wife these past weeks, and the guilt only made him more desperate to make

nightgown from her skin, searching for hesitation, for

their

wandering hand, turned to face him, and met his eyes

sleep with her? How

inscrutable, deep and

wanted to know-after every night he spent with her, did he rush off

find all this sordid,

reply, his phone

side. He

cold space, hearing McNeil's

course. Always the

want to imagine what would happen

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

Victoria

trouble. I

back at her before rushing out