The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge novel Chapter 149

“How do I look—handsome or what?”

Osborn pulled off his helmet, sweat tracing sharp lines down his face. The sunlight caught his features, and for a moment, he looked so striking it could make anyone’s heart skip a beat.

Unfortunately, Victoria had seen that face for years. She was immune by now.

“Try that on someone else, will you? I’m a married woman with a kid—I’m not falling for your charms.”

Osborn’s grin vanished. He stepped closer, turning on the puppy-dog eyes.

“Come on, Vic, your husband’s barely ever around. We’ve known each other forever. When are you going to let me make things official? I’d be loyal—swear it.”

Before he could keep joking, Lyndon’s cold voice cut through the air.

“Clark, there’s something wrong with the engine. Come check it out.”

Osborn instantly dropped the act and jogged over to the car.

Victoria let out a sigh of relief, rubbing her temples. Osborn cracked the same joke every time they met; she could never tell if he meant any of it or if it was all for laughs.

Either way, Victoria never took him seriously.

When Osborn came back, he draped an arm over her shoulder like he always did, teasing.

“Hey, if something happens to me during the race, how about you take my place?”

Victoria swatted his hand away.

“Don’t start. You know I quit racing ages ago. We’ve checked your car—just focus on your last race and quit with the nonsense.”

For some reason, Osborn’s words unsettled her, and her good mood slipped away. He just grinned.

“Relax, I’m messing with you. Don’t tell me you actually care about me. If you do, ditch your husband and marry me already.”

Victoria shot him an exasperated look and strode off into the sunset.

Lyndon watched them go, scrubbing oil from his face, his expression dark as thunder.

—

Lyndon shot him a look, a smirk on his lips. “You know our boss has been chasing after her husband for years. You think you stand a chance?”

Osborn bristled, ready to start a fight, but the others quickly held him back. He ended up drinking himself under the table, hanging off Lyndon and belting out songs all night, no matter how hard Lyndon tried to shake him off.

—

Victoria had Yasmine, her driver, take her straight to the McNeil estate.

When they pulled up, the house was pitch dark except for the glow of the streetlights.

A knot of worry twisted in Victoria’s stomach. Had something really happened to Gwyn? Was she at the hospital?

She fumbled with the fingerprint lock and pushed open the door.

“Gwyn—?”

She called out for her daughter, but the living room was so dark she couldn’t see her own hand. She reached out, searching for the light switch—when suddenly, strong arms grabbed her by the waist and slammed her hard against the wall.