The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge

Chapter 137

Ailie sat in her office, eyes glued to the trending news charts. Quantum Core Technologies' stock had been skyrocketing these past two days-Curtis was making a killing, and so was The Langford Group.

Victoria, meanwhile, kept her head down, quietly doing her own work, seemingly unmoved by the chaos or the excitement.

But everything changed on the third day after the game's launch. Out of nowhere, a catastrophic bug struck: every computer in Quantum Core Technologies was hit by an unknown virus. The entire system crashed in an instant.

Players were suddenly kicked out of the online game, their connections severed, their money lost. No one could log back in.

The tech department was paralyzed with shock. They rushed to inform Curtis, who immediately called in every programmer he could get his hands on.

For three hours, they worked frantically, even bringing in one of the most renowned hackers in the country. They finally managed to wipe out the virus, but that's when an even bigger problem emerged.

The game's built-in self-destruct sequence had been triggered. The backend code was now nothing but gibberish-completely unreadable. Even the best techs had no idea how to fix it.

The online store pulled the game immediately. Outside Quantum Core Technologies' headquarters, furious players formed a dense crowd, demanding refunds and shouting their outrage.

The entire company was thrown into turmoil. Curtis could only hastily arrange a press conference to apologize to the players, scrambling to contain the disaster.

the most weren't Quantum Core

backer, not only lost his initial investment but saw over

in her office,

when Ailie burst in,

to vent again and turned around with a

that's enough,"

sparkled.

McNeil would get what's coming to

puzzled. "What

tech team's been fighting it all day and can't bring it back. I bet Mr. Garcia will be begging for your

them right,

Victoria wrote the original code, she'd embedded a self-destruct protocol. The only way to disable it was with a unique password—a name only she knew: Vivian. But the tech

days of running without the last command, the self-destruct triggered automatically. Now

game's architect, she always covered her

Grand Prix circuit had exposed her to enough backstabbing and dirty tricks to shape her into someone who never left herself vulnerable. If she hadn't been so cautious, how else could McNeil have turned The Langford Group into