The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge novel Chapter 992

Maeve had zero patience for Delilah's endless bragging.

Delilah offered a faint, composed smile. "Alright then. I suppose you won't give up until you see the truth for yourself."

They arrived at the café where Delilah had arranged the meeting. Quinton had shown up nearly half an hour early. Dressed in a high-end designer gown, Delilah walked gracefully toward his table.

Seeing her approach, Quinton immediately stood up and pulled out a chair for her. Then, his gaze shifted to the woman standing right behind her. All the color drained from his face.

"Maeve?"

He never expected the woman he thought vanished two years ago to be standing right in front of him, flesh and blood. She looked even better than before, carrying a newfound confidence that replaced her old timidity.

After a moment of shocked silence, Quinton snapped out of his daze and scrambled to reassure his fiancée. "Dee, please don't misunderstand. Maeve and I are strictly in the past."

Those words struck Maeve like a physical blow, tearing into her already fragile heart.

What a joke.

The past? She didn't even know when they had officially broken up. After two years apart, he didn't even acknowledge their old promises. His first instinct was to frantically draw a line between them.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean, Quinton?"

Watching him hover around Delilah like a desperate lapdog made Maeve's blood run cold.

She had held onto the thought of this man for two whole years. Her reward was watching him pledge his loyalty to another woman—her former best friend, of all people.

It was completely pathetic.

Delilah sat back on the plush café sofa, her legs elegantly crossed. She held her coffee cup delicately, looking every bit the queen holding court.

"It means exactly what it sounds like," Quinton said, his tone firming up. "Delilah and I are together now. Maeve, you and I are ancient history."

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