The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge

Chapter 479

If he'd known Victoria would come out on top in the end, he wouldn't have bothered worrying about blood ties. Siding with the real winner was always the smarter move.

Old money families weren't blind. He'd thought he could turn his biological daughter into a proper socialite by throwing money at her, but when you put Violet

next to the real thing, she simply didn't measure up.

Violet pressed a trembling hand to her swollen cheek, eyes burning with resentment.

"So from the very beginning, you targeted the McNeils. You deliberately pushed me toward him, hoping I'd be useful to you one day. Isn't that right?"

She couldn't let it go.

Simms clicked his tongue. "Please. I didn't make you go after McNeil. It just happened you latched on to him—and you blew it. Did you really think I'd keep treating you like a princess when you're no use to me at all?"

A cold weight settled in Violet's chest.

This was her father. She'd thought, deep down, he must have loved her at least a little.

But now, looking at the man before her, she realized even her foster parents, back in that little town, had been better than this. They never tried to profit off her, never forced her to do things she didn't want to do.

"Don't make it sound so ugly. Deliberate or not, I never told you to go after McNeil. Out of all those rich kids, you could've picked any one. But McNeil's Victoria's husband. If you don't have what it takes, don't bother competing. You made your bed-don't come crying to me now."

Violet tried to protest, but Simms cut her off coldly.

"That's enough. Either you start treating our clients right, or there's the door. Stay

want, but if you're not willing to work,

to snap back, to say something, anything but not a single

door. Humiliated, Violet walked

she passed through the company's corridors, gossip

big contract-all thanks to Ms. Marchand sleeping with the

much was the deal for? She must have some serious

to date President Langford, right? Even if

the richest man

rest.

as

heard."

like a needle, leaving

her anger, she marched into the PR

not a single

her glare. "What, are you all dead? Can't you see

sudden outburst startled the

"Wynn-Ms. Marchand?" her

finally called, approaching

cup in

stepped out for coffee.

Where'd

on the coffee, and she reached for

her assistant pulled it away in