The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge novel Chapter 165

Victoria burned with shame at their tangled position, but right now, the only thing keeping her alive was the crackling campfire beside them. Out here, if she ran from its warmth, she risked freezing to death.

“McNeil, put me down,” she hissed, glancing around at the dark woods. “We’re in the middle of nowhere.”

Her long hair tumbled over her shoulders, catching the firelight and making her look even more breathtaking.

But McNeil only pressed her head firmly against his chest, his heartbeat pounding in her ear.

“Isn’t the wild even better?” His voice rumbled above her, deep and dangerous. “Adds a little thrill, doesn’t it?”

Victoria was caught in his iron grip, her limbs awkward and tense as his hands grew bolder by the second.

“McNeil,” she spat, “you go from woman to woman, and now you want to touch me? Doesn’t that disgust you?”

She wanted nothing to do with him—not anymore. Last time, it had only been a reckless mistake.

She told herself it was no different from picking up a stranger at a club. One night of pleasure, then in the morning, they’d both go their separate ways, owing each other nothing.

He tilted his head, eyes glinting. “What about you? That man you found—did you compare us? Was he better than me in bed, or was I the one who kept you up all night?”

Victoria’s hand shot up, ready to slap him, but he caught her wrist, crushing her lips with his in a bruising kiss.

No matter how she struggled, she couldn’t break free from his hold. He pulled her flush against him, making sure she felt every inch of his desire.

But no matter what he did, Victoria’s rejection was absolute. Her face stayed cold, her eyes empty of any warmth.

McNeil studied her flawless features, then caught her chin in his hand, letting out a low, humorless laugh.

“Already tired of me after sampling something new? Don’t forget, Victoria, until the divorce papers are signed, you’re still my wife.”

“You said it yourself—the divorce isn’t final. That means half your money is already mine. Five million? Who do you think you’re cheapening?”

She stared him down, fury burning in her eyes. When the Langford family was hanging by a thread, she’d stood by him, weathered every storm for six years. She’d poured everything she had—her skills, her family’s resources, every last connection from the Turner side—into rebuilding his empire.

She’d eaten scraps with him, worked through endless sleepless nights, even while pregnant, hunched over her laptop, drafting proposals and chasing deals for The Langford Group.

Five million? Tonight, even if McNeil wanted to toss a bone to a beggar, he wouldn’t have the nerve to insult them with such a sum.

Her slap left a vivid imprint on his handsome face.

But McNeil didn’t get angry. He just grabbed her wrist and fixed her with a steely glare.

“Finished? Had enough? Because if you’re done, it’s my turn now.”