The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge

Chapter 50

Chapter 50

Victoria had been ill for a while, and though her health was slowly improving, she knew she couldn't keep sending McNeil off to see Claire anymore.

She believed that a man only strayed when his needs weren't being met at home. Secretly, Violet had bought a drawer full of lacy lingerie, planning every detail. Once McNeil finally gave in to her, she was sure he'd never think about Claire again.

She'd heard that women who'd given birth often had ugly stretch marks on their bellies. She didn't want that for herself-she wasn't ready to lose her looks.

McNeil lit a cigarette. "Violet, Claire is my wife."

The words had barely left his lips when he heard a faint cough from the bedroom. He hung up right away.

Violet clutched her phone, tears streaming down her face, fingers tightening until she nearly snapped the device in two.

Staring out into the pitch-black night, she whispered to herself, "So, you two spent the whole night together, didn't you?"

McNeil didn't leave Claire's place until dawn.

waking with her head pounding. She was still wearing McNeil's dress shirt, nothing underneath. As she sat up, the buttons gaped open her bra

around her. Flashes of last night drifted back-she'd had a dream about McNeil, a vivid, shameless one. In her dream, they'd been together again and again.

but

legs out of bed, her knees almost buckled. Her whole body ached her head throbbed, her back was sore, and her legs trembled.

should take it easy and come in this afternoon,"

glasses of wine, and later,

that, everything was a blur-except for

no matter how intense,

her friend Simms's place to change clothes. Only then

soon as she walked into the office, heads turned.

and now she'd returned as Mr. Garcia's personal assistant.

the whispers to

famously picky when

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