The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge novel Chapter 82

Teague jolted awake in the passenger seat, screaming. McNeil reached over, his hand clamped tight around Teague’s throat, and with bloodshot eyes, barked an order at the armed guard standing by the gate.

“Open the door.”

The guard, gun raised and pointed at McNeil, hesitated when he saw Teague pinned and gasping for air.

McNeil let out a cold, menacing laugh, squeezing just enough for Teague to hear the sickening crack of his own windpipe.

“Do it. Let him in,” Teague rasped, struggling to gesture with what little strength he had left.

The moment the gate opened a fraction, McNeil floored the gas. The black sports car slammed through the ornate wrought-iron gate, sending metal and sparks flying.

Inside the grand foyer, Teague’s grandfather watched in shock as the car barreled across the lawn, tore through flowerbeds, and screeched to a halt at the front steps. The display was as wild and out of control as a bull let loose in a china shop.

“What on earth is going on?”

He stared, aghast, as McNeil dragged Teague out of the car and dumped him on the ground like a sack of garbage.

“Where’s my wife?” McNeil’s eyes were wild and rimmed with red, his voice nearly a growl.

Teague’s face was a battered mess, and he sobbed, pleading pathetically.

“My grandson risked his life to save your wife,” the old man snapped, hands trembling so badly his cane nearly slipped from his grasp. “Is this how you treat someone who saved her?”

“Do you even know what part of the Yates estate you’ve stormed into?”

“Oh, really?” McNeil shot back, barely keeping his rage in check. “Does that include broadcasting videos of her in front of a crowd for your own sick amusement?”

The old man turned and glared at his grandson, voice a low, furious curse. “You animal. This is your doing?”

Teague didn’t dare make a sound.

“I’m taking her with me,” McNeil announced.

Chaos erupted in the hall as Stein stepped out from a side room, carrying Victoria in his arms. A group of grim-faced men followed close behind.

McNeil’s eyes locked on Victoria, panic and fury overtaking him. He lunged, but half a dozen guns were immediately pressed to his head.

“Let her go,” he demanded through gritted teeth.