Chapter 270

Every word out of Violet's mouth dripped with sarcasm directed at Victoria.

Hearing her, Victoria couldn't help but frown-not because she felt attacked or stung by Violet's biting remarks, but because something deeper unsettled her.

She knew her daughter had always liked Violet, and from the way her little girl talked about her, it seemed Violet was fond of Gwyneth, too.

But after Gwyneth had gone missing, spent the night with a fever, and now was suffering from a swollen face and a toothache, Victoria couldn't help but wonder: shouldn't Violet's first concern, for Gwyneth's sake if nothing else, be the child's well-being?

Instead, Violet seemed more irritated that Victoria's family emergency had interrupted her work, her expression betraying not a hint of genuine concern for Gwyneth.

Whether Georgia had handed over the wrong files by accident or on purpose, trying to pin the blame on Victoria, none of that really mattered now.

Victoria had no intention of offering any explanations.

"I understand. I'll be more careful in the future," she said quietly.

"In the future?" Violet arched an eyebrow. "Do you really think something like this should have a 'next time,' Ms. Turner? I expect this never to happen again. If you'd rather focus on being a devoted wife and mother to the Garcia family, then perhaps you should quit and tend to your household. But if you truly want to be an independent woman with a career, you need to understand: sometimes, you have to make sacrifices."

Violet glanced down at the documents in her hand, her voice brisk and businesslike. "Leave them here and go. If you're struggling to juggle everything, hire a full-time nanny. Quantum Core Technologies isn't a charity."

Her cold, impersonal tone made Victoria's fists clench involuntarily.

She left Violet's office in silence. Outside, Georgia had clearly overheard

gave Victoria was

the tech department, the manager approached her with concern. "Are you

tones—that

dropping off some documents," Victoria replied, not a hint of complaint in her

her know she didn't need

time with her daughter, so when she saw the message on her phone, she stared

set her phone

McNeil had reached a quiet, mutual understanding— whatever bond they had was now little better

or work; any other topics were

his office, reviewing the file Maynard had

the South for further study. For several years, her resume was almost a blank slate. McNeil had told Maynard to dig deeper, but

no sign Victoria had ever formally studied computer science. So where had she learned her technical

of marriage, McNeil realized he barely knew the woman he'd shared a

those divorce papers my wife asked you to prepare last time-what's the

all being handled according to your

McNeil nodded. "Good."

he'd said: "According to your instructions." What was

divorce papers were still

was the one who

had submitted was still sitting in his desk. He'd looked at the two copies last time-

prided himself on anticipating his

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