The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge

Chapter 162

"What about you, Ms. Marchand? What's your wish?"

Jack tipped his head back, having just taken a long drink of water, and shot the question at her.

Violet glanced over at McNeil with a faint, enigmatic smile. "Take a guess."

After a short break filled with banter and laughter, the group started up another hill.

As they climbed higher, the air thinned and the temperature dropped sharply. Everyone pulled out heavier jackets and bundled up.

After several hours of hiking, most of the group began to feel the strain-some were gasping for breath, others lagging behind, their pace interrupted by frequent stops.

By now, only McNeil, Curtis, and Violet seemed to have energy left.

To everyone's surprise, the delicate-looking Ms. Turner seemed to be handling the climb better than anyone. Her breathing was steady, her expression calm-she didn't look tired at all.

A couple of people whispered conspiratorially.

really not tired, or just pretending? Maybe she's trying to show off

minds to something. Honestly, if Ms. Marchand weren't so good-natured, she would've slapped her earlier when she practically fell

Victoria; now, any chance to gossip about her

simply pretended

Core Technologies with a mission,

course we're tired. Let's take another break, then make a final push to the top. There's a spa hotel up there—no one's actually

hot baths and comfortable beds instantly

ready to collapse; now, people

water or maybe hold her hand if she needed help. But after hours of climbing, even he was starting to flag, while Victoria still looked completely at ease. Curtis began

equipment across all sorts of terrain-was showing signs of

truly exhausted, Violet called for a half-hour

the trek so far had

on the other hand, was

come

cameraman had taken an interest

got up and walked

Langford in a bit," he explained. "You've got great stamina, and you're about the same height as Ms.