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 of questioning. "What do you

close by, feigning indifference while listening intently to every word between mother and

came out to greet them. It had been months since both the young master and his wife had returned together, so the staff hurried inside to

young master, his wife,

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

someone to drag you home? Planning to

said nothing at first. When the old man looked pointedly at her, she finally offered a

a long moment before sighing. "Well, you're back. Married

situation was far beyond a simple lovers' quarrel. When dinner was served, Gwyneth clung to Victoria like a barnacle, determined not to let

too. Can you help me

was too hot, she made Victoria blow on it; if it was cold, she insisted it be sent back to the kitchen

Victoria barely touched her own plate,

man chatted with his grandson as they ate; Victoria

table, keeping her distance from mother and daughter. Gwyneth had never warmed to her grandmother, but she was affectionate with the old man, answering every question with earnest seriousness. When they arrived, she'd greeted him with a

conversationalist she once was. She'd grown withdrawn, indifferent to anything

old man summoned the young

are your plans? You can't expect Gwyneth to be

was the old man's usual routine: every time they came for dinner, he'd press

he genuinely wanted her to be part of

the family line. Who