The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge

Chapter 21

It was the first time Madonna had ever heard Victoria speak to her in that tone. Usually, in front of the Langfords, Victoria barely dared to breathe, let alone raise her voice. Now, Madonna was so furious she could hardly keep her hands steady. To make matters worse, a cacophony of noise erupted in her ear-she could barely make out Victoria's words over the din.

"What is that racket? I'm talking to you-where are you, at a construction site or something?"

It sounded like she was standing on the edge of a busy city intersection, engines roaring and horns blaring on all sides.

But Victoria didn't answer. She simply hung up.

She slipped her phone back into her pocket and turned to face Osborn Clark, whose excitement was practically vibrating off him.

"Is it fixed?" he blurted out, unable to contain himself.

Victoria stood tall in front of him, a glint of pride in her eyes. "See for yourself."

Osborn barely glanced at the car. "No need. How much do I owe you? I'll write a check right now."

Victoria just smiled, cool and collected. "It's on the house."

a million.

a battered frame—his first F1 championship car, the one that had won him his initial trophy. Even after it had been wrecked, scorched, and nearly drowned, Osborn couldn't bring himself to scrap it. He'd knelt beside it for hours, weeping openly, unable

post she'd made to her friends online.

just three seconds, she'd rattled off the

called in her old Echo City pit crew, and when he'd come by to check on their

rows of engineers assembled behind her. They stood shoulder to shoulder, faces shining

letting her long dark hair tumble down like a waterfall. Clad in her slate-grey coveralls, she looked every bit the same force of nature who used to lead crisis repairs on the racetrack years

unable to

thought about coming back

Evermore City

Starry Nights Restaurant

offer of payment but eventually gave in and let him

floor-to-ceiling windows, their silhouettes were clearly visible, sitting across from each other in the soft

corner of the lot. Inside, McNeil sat in silence, his expression unreadable as he

his wife chatted and laughed with Osborn. That easy, relaxed smile on her face-he realized he'd

out a bitter laugh under