The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge

Chapter 140

Violet dropped the pretense entirely. She took the smartwatch from Gwyneth's hand and turned on the speaker.

"Victoria, let's talk-just the two of us."

On the eighty-eighth floor of The Summit Suites, the city's skyline shimmered through floor-to-ceiling windows. In the softly lit sky lounge, a violinist played a gentle melody on stage while small lamps flickered on every table, their candlelight dancing in the warm air.

The meeting was set for eight, but Violet arrived a full hour late.

Victoria waited, unhurried, sipping her coffee. She'd ordered a delicate slice of cake, which she ate with a silver spoon-each small bite precise, careful, and effortlessly graceful.

Violet strode in, dressed in a crisp white blazer over a beige knee-length skirt- her entire look all sharp lines and businesslike efficiency. Several heads turned as she walked past, drawn by her commanding presence.

But the woman by the window, quietly leafing through a magazine, had already caught the room's attention. Victoria's poise and beauty were impossible to ignore; everyone who glanced her way was visibly struck.

Violet took the seat across from her. Her makeup was flawless, her expression touched with a hint of arrogance, though she masked it well.

"Victoria-"

Victoria for several long seconds before speaking, her words slow and deliberate.

her gaze steady and unafraid as she

to expect a reaction,

don't care if you keep playing Mrs. Langford," Violet continued, her tone light but edged with condescension. "There was no need to make

though the bitterness was unmistakable, wore an

more than a trophy

much to get you to fix that game? Everyone has a

looked at Victoria with the smugness of

of McNeil's place. Yet now she'd taken a job

tell Curtis about her

almost unfocused gaze-like she was looking

"So, what's your offer?"

her cooling coffee, her

lips curled into a faint, smug smile.

much as blink. No reaction at

a flicker of greed or surprise,