The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge novel Chapter 117

Hearing that it was her daughter calling, Victoria let out a small sigh of relief.

For a moment, she’d thought McNeil was up to some new mischief again.

“Mummy, tomorrow’s my birthday. Will you come?”

Gwyneth’s voice was plaintive and hopeful.

Victoria paused, realizing it had been nearly five days since she last heard from Gwyneth—the longest stretch since she’d promised her that new video game.

She must have grown tired of asking. Every time, Victoria told her, “Wait until your birthday.”

Now, at last, the day had come.

“Yes, I’ll bring your game over tomorrow,” Victoria replied.

Gwyneth squealed with delight on the other end, but as soon as the words left her mouth, Victoria regretted it.

Gwyneth was almost certainly staying at Winding Peak Lane with Violet. Bringing her birthday present meant Victoria would have to go there too.

And that house—Violet’s house—was the one place Victoria dreaded most.

It had been her and McNeil’s home for six years, their private haven—until he went and bought an identical one for his mistress.

Even now, after the divorce papers were signed and she told herself she no longer cared, Victoria couldn’t stomach the thought.

It was as if someone had spat into her favorite dish. No matter how many times you wiped it clean, you’d never want to eat it again.

“You’re the best, Mummy! You’re amazing!”

Gwyneth cheered, her joy infectious.

“Gwyn, McNeil, I cut up some fruit. Come have some. Gwyn, I made your favorite cupcakes too—but don’t eat too many sweets at night, or you’ll lose your pretty figure!”

Just as Gwyneth finished celebrating, Violet’s voice drifted over faintly from the background.

Suddenly, Gwyneth’s tone dropped to a whisper. Victoria guessed she was covering the phone with her hand.

“Mummy, it’s late. I have to go to bed now.”

She forced a big yawn, trying her best to sound sleepy.

Victoria’s voice was flat, emotionless. “Alright. Get some sleep.”

Gwyneth froze—she’d been hoping to catch McNeil alone, ask him to take her home to wait for her mother, and then come back here to celebrate with Violet after she got her game.

But now Violet was awake. How was she supposed to pull this off?

Worried that Violet might get upset—and knowing she’d already texted her mother—Gwyneth panicked. If her mom saw the message, she’d definitely come home looking for her.

“Well, look who’s up early—the birthday girl herself!”

Violet smiled brightly at Gwyneth.

McNeil glanced over and ruffled Gwyneth’s hair.

“You really are growing up, aren’t you?”

Instead of feeling proud, Gwyneth felt her anxiety spike. How was she supposed to ask to go home now?

“Violet, you’re up early too,” she mumbled.

Violet crouched down to Gwyneth’s level, her eyes kind.

“So, you love racing cars, don’t you?”