The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge

Chapter 300

Gwyneth reluctantly sat beside McNeil as the car pulled away from the curb. The moment they were in motion, McNeil's knee-whether by accident or design- brushed against Victoria's.

Without drawing attention, Victoria edged herself away. It didn't matter; within minutes, McNeil had shifted back, closing the gap.

Irritation simmered in her chest. McNeil sat upright, acting as if nothing had happened, occasionally making small talk with Gwyneth, but ignoring Victoria completely.

For Gwyneth, this was a rare visit with her mother. She'd hoped to wedge herself between Victoria and McNeil, maybe snuggle up to her mom and chat along the ride. Instead, McNeil had plucked her away like a kitten and set her on the opposite side. All the way to the old manor, Gwyneth kept craning her neck, trying to catch Victoria's eye, while Victoria stared straight ahead, ignoring her daughter's silent pleas.

After several failed attempts, Gwyneth voiced her protest, but McNeil pretended not to hear.

When the car finally rolled to a stop in front of Langford Mansion, Gwyneth hopped out, visibly frustrated.

Victoria followed, and Gwyneth immediately ran over, grabbing her hand and refusing to let go.

"Mommy..."

She was her mother-so why should Daddy get to keep her all to himself?

Victoria squeezed Gwyneth's small fingers, and Gwyneth looked up. "Mommy, that race car model you had is that for Mr. Clark? Not for Max, right?"

Max had become a thorn in Gwyneth's side, as if he might swoop in and steal Victoria away at any moment.

line

close by, feigning indifference while listening intently to every word

the young master and

wife, and Miss Gwyneth

always, though his eyes softened at the sight of Victoria-relief and comfort flickering

someone to drag you home? Planning to

first. When the old man looked pointedly at her, she

snorted, staring at her for a long moment before sighing. "Well, you're back. Married

Victoria like a barnacle, determined not to let her

I want some crab too. Can you

made Victoria blow on it; if it

her own plate, busy tending to Gwyneth's every

as they ate; Victoria

grandmother, but she was affectionate with the old man, answering every question with earnest seriousness. When they arrived, she'd greeted him with a chirpy "Great-Grandpa!"—which delighted

once was. She'd grown withdrawn, indifferent

old man summoned the young couple to

expect Gwyneth to be

every time they came for

wanted her to be

was the family line. Who bore the children hardly mattered