The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge novel Chapter 106

“It wasn’t from me—it was from Grandfather. He asked me to bring it to you. Was that trending post your handiwork? Victoria, I really misjudged you.”

McNeil’s accusation—“I misjudged you”—only drew a sardonic smile from Victoria.

“Whatever you say.”

Since the gift was from Grandfather, she accepted it without further ceremony.

Of course—it was that landscape painting.

When Victoria returned to change and head out, Haley, the housekeeper, couldn’t help but worry.

“Miss…”

Victoria caught the hint in Haley’s voice and offered a faint smile. “I’m fine. I’m just going back to check on Grandfather.”

She slipped into a clean dress and, when she emerged, McNeil was already waiting outside, leaning against the car. He wore a sharp black-and-white suit, tall and composed, cupping a lighter as he lit a cigarette and exhaled a thin stream of smoke.

When he saw Victoria, he barely glanced her way, then tossed the cigarette to the ground and crushed it underfoot.

Victoria didn’t bother with the driver’s seat; instead, she opened the back door and slid in.

Inside the car, the light was dim. Once, they’d been partners in all things, a team who could talk about anything. Now, it was as if they were strangers.

McNeil didn’t bother to speak, and Victoria had no intention of starting a conversation.

She sat quietly, dressed in an elegant ivory knit dress, a tailored trench coat cinched around her waist. Compared to the woman who’d once lived in McNeil’s gilded cage, she seemed sharper now, more self-assured.

“We’re here.”

As Victoria stepped out, McNeil couldn’t help but glance at her. Just a fleeting look—then he followed her inside.

Grandfather was waiting for them. He brightened at the sight of Victoria.

“My dear, come see how my handwriting’s coming along these days.”

Grandfather was in high spirits. McNeil, sensing the mood, went to brew some tea, giving them space.

Victoria obediently approached. She watched as Grandfather brushed bold, confident strokes onto the paper. No one would believe this was the same man who’d been at death’s door not long ago.

“Grandfather, you’re looking well. And your spirits seem high, too.”