The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge novel Chapter 220

Maynard froze for a moment when he got the call—Mrs. Langford needed the car?

He hurriedly left the office and drove to the Langford family's suburban estate. Xenia greeted him at the door and let him in.

Without wasting a second, Maynard headed straight to the garage, only to find himself hesitating at the rows of luxury cars.

This was the first time Mrs. Langford had ever asked him to drive her anywhere. She always drove herself before, but Maynard had seen the news—her Ferrari had been in an accident. Since then, she hadn't touched it.

He scanned the glittering lineup, deliberating. In the end, his gaze landed on the gold Rolls-Royce Ghost. After all, Mr. Langford had publicly acknowledged her status. She couldn't show up at The Langford Group in anything less than impressive, and Maynard certainly didn't dare take any chances.

Downstairs at Quantum Core Technologies, people were already whispering and craning their necks, wondering what kind of scene Victoria would cause this time.

But when Maynard pulled up in that gold Ghost, stepped out, and opened the back door with the poise of a consummate English butler—bowing ever so slightly to shield her head with his hand—everyone fell silent. "Ma'am, your car is ready," he said with impeccable courtesy.

Maynard glanced at Ailie. "Is this lady a friend of yours, ma'am?"

Ailie's lips twitched into a grin that was almost uncontrollable—she looked like she was about to burst with glee. "Yes, I'm a friend of your Mrs. Langford."

She practically skipped to the car, waving cheekily at Violet. "See you, Ms. Marchand. We're off!"

Victoria slid into the car first, and as McNeil watched from his own vehicle, he saw Maynard pull up right in front of her. Maynard, for his part, had already noticed McNeil's car, but since McNeil was inside, there was no need to go over and say hello.

The executives from Quantum Core Technologies stared at the gold Ghost. In Starfall City, luxury cars were a dime a dozen, but what truly stunned them was the license plate: a string of identical eights, perfectly sequential.