The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge novel Chapter 5

A fire crackled in the hearth, its warmth doing little to chase away the chill that had settled over the room.

Victoria swirled the red wine in her glass, bringing it to her lips for the occasional sip, her gaze distant and unfocused.

Out in the hallway, Haley stealthily dialed Yasmine. “Yasmine, you need to come see Mrs. Langford. It’s barely dawn and she’s already drinking.”

Two glasses in, the wine was cold on Victoria’s tongue, but her heart felt even colder.

She had just gotten off the phone with the bridal shop.

The plan was simple: on their anniversary, the dress would be delivered in the morning. That evening, she’d wear it to the studio, where she and McNeil would have their portrait taken—a keepsake for another year together.

But then, a minor hitch: McNeil had bailed last minute, and she’d somehow forgotten all about the dress herself.

And now—

“Mrs. Langford, we’ve already delivered the gown. You didn’t receive it?”

Victoria frowned. She certainly hadn’t.

“Where exactly did you send it?”

“To Midhill Manor, Winding Peak Lane. Mr. Langford’s instructions.”

Her hand slipped; the wine glass toppled, and a splash of crimson spread across the pristine carpet, blossoming into a vivid stain—like the wound blooming in her chest, raw and impossible to ignore.

Winding Peak Lane. Midhill Manor.

McNeil’s secret love nest.

Violet had lived there for six years. McNeil probably thought Victoria had no idea.

But she’d always followed the advice of the old folks: “Before marriage, keep your eyes wide open. After marriage, turn a blind eye when you must.”

She’d told herself, as long as McNeil treated her and their child well, there was no point obsessing over his flings.

Even her father-in-law had shrugged it off: “A man straying now and then is just how things are.”

She was Mrs. Langford, and nobody could take that from her.

But now—