The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge novel Chapter 141

Victoria slid two bills beneath her coffee cup.

“I’m afraid I can’t help you with this,” she said. “If Ms. Marchand heads to IT, she can patch up my code herself. Honestly, you have what it takes to fix the game on your own—sometimes it’s better to rely on yourself than to beg for favors. Sorry, but I’ve got somewhere to be. Coffee’s on me.”

She stood, face unreadable, and strode away without a backward glance.

Violet hurried after her, frustration sharpening her voice.

“Victoria, The Langford Group isn’t the only investor in this project—Golden Era Enterprises is involved too. And that’s the company your grandfather founded from nothing. If something happens to Golden Era, you won’t come out ahead either. It’ll just be a lose-lose situation.”

Victoria paused and slowly turned.

Her gaze was icy, cold enough to cut to the bone.

“If a single game could bankrupt Golden Era,” she said, “then Simms really hasn’t been doing his job all these years. Poor investments—well, I guess you played your part in that, since you were the one pushing for this. Maybe you should focus on figuring out how to explain that to Simms.”

Without another word, Victoria walked briskly out of the café, her stride light and unhurried.

Night had already settled in by the time Yasmine pulled up to the hotel entrance.

As Victoria stepped outside, she noticed a familiar luxury van pulling up behind Yasmine’s car.

Violet was still inside. The license plate said McNeil, which meant Violet wasn’t the only one trying to change her mind—McNeil probably wanted a word too.

Victoria slid into the passenger seat. Yasmine had cranked the heater, and warmth seeped into her bones almost immediately.

In the rearview mirror, she caught a glimpse of McNeil politely opening the door for Violet. Victoria closed her eyes, resisting the urge to watch people whose lives had nothing to do with her. She leaned back, drowsiness overtaking her.

She woke with a start, still in the car, headlights washing over the familiar outline of her house.