The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge novel Chapter 367

“No need to be so modest, Ms. Marchand. For years, you spared no expense seeking out the best doctors, hoping to cure your infertility. And now, finally, there’s hope on the horizon.

As long as you don’t go taking any of those lethal pills that cause internal bleeding, your health should be just fine.

You will have your own children. In my opinion, no matter how clever anyone else thinks they are, you’ll always be two steps ahead.”

Kelvin suddenly recalled the old saying—hell hath no fury like a woman scorned—and realized it must have been written for someone like Violet.

“Oh, no, you’ve got it wrong. I truly love McNeil. And he’s always loved me too—otherwise, why would he have turned a blind eye to everything I’ve done?

Give me a little more time. Once I’ve fully recovered, I’ll go to Mr. Langford myself and tell him the truth. I can have children too; I can give the Langford family a future just as well as anyone.

And really, when it comes to that whole ‘stomach cancer’ business, I owe you and the old man my thanks for such a convincing performance. Tomorrow, I’ll transfer the amount I promised you into your account.

And Dr. Kelvin, once you return home, you’ll have your own private lab. Whatever research project you want to pursue, you’ll get better funding and resources here than you ever could abroad.”

At that moment, a waiter arrived with their food. Spotting Victoria standing at the doorway, he politely asked, “Would you like to come in, ma’am?”

Inside, Violet and Kelvin immediately realized someone had been eavesdropping. After chatting for so long, there was no telling how much the person outside had heard.

Victoria felt rooted to the spot, her feet glued to the floor.

Kelvin could hardly believe he’d run into Victoria here. Only Violet, seeing her, acted as if nothing at all had happened, a faint smile on her lips.

“Victoria, what a coincidence—join us for dinner, won’t you? We all know each other, after all.”

She turned to the waiter. “Another place setting, please.”

Then she took Victoria by the arm and led her, dazed as a sleepwalker, into the private dining room.

Victoria’s face was sheet-white.

“How long have you two known each other?” she managed to ask.

Violet poured her a glass of wine with deliberate leisure.

“I hear you can hold your liquor, VP Turner. Why don’t we have a drink and talk?”

Victoria said nothing, her eyes locked on them both.