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.

her focus on

the hotel manager hurried over. One look at

"M-Mr. Langford..."

daring to breathe. With a single look from McNeil, the receptionist caught on instantly,

family really did have their fingers in every pie. If they'd been anywhere else, the receptionist might have actually called the cops, and even if McNeil talked his way

floor. I don't want anyone disturbing us," McNeil ordered. Then, without warning, he hoisted Victoria

free, but he only tightened his grip—and, right

fighting, and I'll give everyone out there a front-row seat to

time, McNeil wasn't holding back- the blow sent tingles shooting up her

in front of him. She'd had a bit to

shrieked, her voice high and desperate. In the stillness of

two night-shift clerks exchanged

Mr. Langford's

same Violet Marchand who's always in

seriously ill. She doesn't look

tossed Victoria onto

of her, he stripped off his suit jacket, yanked loose his tie, and