The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge novel Chapter 337

Isaac looked at Marcus’s miserable, lost expression and couldn’t even muster the courage to offer him advice. All he could do was send a text to McNeil, hoping he’d come over and rescue them from this awkward mess.

“Marcus, come on, there are plenty of fish in the sea. A woman like that—well—”

She really was stunning; even Isaac had to admit he was practically drooling over her. Maybe, once things wrapped up, he’d work up the nerve to ask for her number—if she’d even give it.

Marcus slumped onto the couch, his words sluggish and heavy.

“Isaac.”

His voice sounded unusually low, almost guttural.

“Yeah?” Isaac glanced over at Victoria but, with Marcus there, he felt too self-conscious to approach her.

“Am I getting old?”

Isaac almost spat out his drink, choking on it as he glanced across the room at the group of young, ridiculously attractive guys—barely out of college, all sharp features and toned bodies.

They really were young, and damn near perfect.

Meanwhile, he and Marcus were pushing thirty; in a few years, they’d be well into it.

“Come on, don’t be ridiculous—”

Marcus took a long, hard swig of his drink.

“Marcus, maybe we should head somewhere else?” Isaac suggested, thinking maybe a bar with more women would do wonders for Marcus’s confidence.

This place had been taken over by that group of women, and with all those pretty boys around, guys like them didn’t stand a chance.

Marcus stood up. Isaac, not ready to leave, cast one last longing look at Victoria, sighed, and shook his head as he followed Marcus out.

They’d barely reached the door when McNeil barreled inside.

“McNeil! We’re leaving!” Isaac called out, but McNeil didn’t seem to hear him.

Marcus, clearly done with the night, got into his car and glared impatiently at Isaac.

“Are you coming or not?”

Isaac pointed back at the bar. “Isn’t he here for us?”

With a sharp slam, Marcus shut the car door. “You can get a ride home yourself.”

And with that, he sped off, leaving Isaac standing there, dumbfounded, watching Marcus’s car disappear down the street.

“Has he lost his mind?” Isaac muttered.

He started thinking about McNeil, and was just about to head back inside when a chorus of police sirens suddenly cut through the night, growing louder by the second.

“Shit—”

Isaac jumped, his heart pounding as he watched a squad of heavily armed police officers storm into the bar. He shrank back, bewildered and more than a little alarmed.