The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge novel Chapter 143

Victoria remained as poised as ever—graceful, composed, and quietly confident.

Curtis remembered the first time Victoria had come in for her interview. She’d been a fresh-faced young woman, barely in her twenties, looking more like a college student than a professional. But he’d been immediately drawn in by her expertise and a depth of experience he couldn’t quite place. After she joined the team, her outstanding work quickly earned his respect.

It was Ailie who had first recommended Victoria to him. He’d hesitated at the time, but the deeper he dug, the more he realized there was something enigmatic about her—something he couldn’t quite put his finger on, but that fascinated him all the same.

Then came the sudden success of that game, and Curtis couldn’t help but wonder if he’d missed something crucial about Victoria all along.

“I just closed the deal on your game,” Curtis said, breaking the silence. “The other side offered two million dollars. As the designer, you’ll get a five hundred thousand bonus. I’ll have the company wire the money to your account.”

Victoria listened quietly, offering no words of thanks or any other unnecessary response.

Curtis watched her closely, searching for any hint of emotion, but her expression remained unreadable.

She stood there, calm and unmoved, and the stillness unsettled Curtis more than any outburst could have.

Finally, he broke. “I’m sorry, Victoria. I mishandled this.”

He should have intervened when the tech department wanted to add Violet’s name to the reports before they landed on his desk.

But McNeil’s investment had blinded him—and dulled his conscience.

“Business is business, Mr. Garcia. There’s no need to apologize,” Victoria replied, her tone even and understanding.

The more understanding Victoria was, the more embarrassed Curtis felt.

He almost wished she’d just yell at him, but she remained perfectly composed, listening without a single complaint or accusation.

“I’m fine,” she said at last. “I won’t keep you from your work.”

Curtis felt deflated. He shoved his hands into his pockets and, as he left, blurted out, “Victoria, who are you—really?”