The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge novel Chapter 204

Victoria didn't bother exposing Gwyneth's lie—there was simply no need.

She'd originally planned a visit to see Osborn Clark at the hospital, but when she heard Gwyneth on the phone say she'd be picking Violet up after her discharge—and knowing both Osborn and Violet were patients at the same hospital—Victoria decided it was best to avoid running into McNeil and Violet altogether. She'd just go another day.

It wasn't that she was afraid of McNeil. She just saw no reason to ever cross paths again.

After so many long hours at work, Victoria couldn't remember the last time she'd truly relaxed.

She called up her old dance instructor, deciding to spend the afternoon in the studio, lost in movement and music.

Before she'd married McNeil, Victoria had a world of hobbies. Over time, everything had started to revolve around McNeil and Gwyneth. The talented, lively, and irresistibly vibrant woman she once was had faded into someone entirely different.

She drove herself to the dance studio. Sophia Carter was already waiting for her.

"Victoria, when you called, I thought I was dreaming," Sophia said with a teasing grin.

If only Victoria had agreed to represent Sophia's dance team in the national competition all those years ago, Sophia wouldn't still be here, scraping by with studio work and training students just to make ends meet.

Victoria smiled softly, shedding her heavy coat and slipping into her leotard. Sophia couldn't help but marvel.

"So, you really did get married and have a kid, huh?" she asked, half in disbelief.

How did a woman who'd given birth still have a figure like that?

Sophia was practically green with envy. In all these years, she'd never met another dancer with Victoria's natural gift. But after Victoria graduated from Northriver University, she'd disappeared overseas. Word eventually reached Sophia that Victoria had married and started a family, and they'd never crossed paths again.

Max, clutching a basketball, glanced up at Marcus Green. "Uncle, that's Miss Fannie."

Every weekend, Max came here to shoot hoops—the basketball court was on the eighth floor of the mall, while the dance studio was on the seventh.

Marcus had come to pick Max up, but he never expected to see "Fannie" here. The woman in the dance leotard looked completely different from the mechanic who'd helped him fix his broken-down car with the crew. That woman had been all energy and swagger, but the dancer before him moved with a softness and feminine allure that left Marcus stunned. When Victoria spun around and glanced his way, Marcus felt as if he'd been struck by lightning—he was rooted to the spot, unable to move for a full two minutes.

Victoria finished her dance just as Max darted past Marcus before he could stop him and burst into the studio.

"Miss Fannie!"

Sophia assumed some kid had wandered in by mistake and started to intervene. But Victoria, recognizing the voice, turned just as Max reached her. And there was Marcus, tall and impeccably dressed, leaning against the doorframe, his gaze deep and unwavering as he watched her.