The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge

Chapter 25

McNeil all but dragged her, half-carrying, half-pulling Victoria as she stumbled into the hotel lobby.

The woman at the front desk immediately sensed trouble, her hand hovering over the desk phone.

"McNeil, let go of me. Do you enjoy forcing people?"

Victoria tried to wrench her arm free, but McNeil ignored her, tightening his grip.

"Penthouse suite. My ID. Phone number is...," he rattled off the digits, tossing his wallet onto the counter with an impatient flick of his wrist, never loosening his hold on Victoria.

The receptionist looked them over: a strikingly handsome man and a beautiful, impeccably dressed woman—on the surface, they seemed like the perfect couple. But something was off. The woman was resisting, her discomfort obvious, while the man refused to let go.

"Miss, do you need me to call the police?" the receptionist asked, stepping forward without hesitation.

McNeil's face darkened. "We're married," he snapped.

Victoria was pressed to his side, physically restrained. The absurdity of his words almost made her laugh.

receptionist didn't flinch, keeping her focus

One look at McNeil and the color drained from

"M-Mr. Langford..."

bowed his head, barely daring to breathe. With a single look from

anywhere else, the receptionist might have actually called the cops, and even if McNeil talked his way

disturbing us," McNeil ordered. Then, without warning, he hoisted

wriggle free, but he only tightened his grip—and, right there in the open, delivered a sharp slap to

there a front-row seat to our little

his hand left her breathless. This time, McNeil wasn't holding back- the blow

a bit to

shrieked, her voice high and desperate. In the stillness of the late-night lobby, her cries echoed, making

two night-shift clerks

Mr. Langford's girlfriend, Ms.

Marchand who's always in the tabloids? Lucky

she's seriously ill. She doesn't look it

suite, McNeil tossed Victoria

yanked