The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge

Chapter 109

Victoria tried to slip out of bed, but every time she moved, McNeil moaned in pain, his brow furrowing. She had no choice but to stay put.

With a resigned sigh, she lay back down beside him, fully dressed. The night was chilly, yet McNeil's body radiated heat.

After a long, exhausting day and hours spent nursing McNeil, Victoria drifted off without realizing it.

The next morning, sunlight streamed through the tall windows, warming the room. Victoria felt soft, rhythmic breaths against her cheek. She startled awake, only to find herself wrapped tightly in McNeil's arms.

Her heart sank a little. Gently, she pressed a hand to his forehead.

The fever had broken.

As she tried to pull her hand away, McNeil caught it, mumbling, "Violet..." The rest was lost in a sleepy slur.

Of course. Last night, she must have lost her mind.

got out of bed, and headed downstairs. She'd meant to just leave, but instead, she found herself in the kitchen, making a pot of warm porridge for

everything was done, she

always be connected, but that was all. She

gone long when the doorbell

by a striking woman. Early spring sunlight caught the woman's

recognized

"Is McNeil home?"

She'd spent the whole night trying to reach McNeil, and Gwyneth had

waiting. If Victoria was there, she could always

a sigh. Compared to Mrs. McNeil, this woman had a certain confidence and energy- sharper, more dynamic. Victoria

dashed upstairs to find her father. Violet followed briskly, but

yesterday. The doctor saw him this

and she quickened

go play for a bit," Violet murmured as she

around his back, a hint of red seeping through. Violet's eyes widened. He was