The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge novel Chapter 227

"I think Ms. Turner is from the Investment Department, right? It's such a shame you're not in Tech."

Patrick's gaze lingered on Victoria, a spark of admiration in his eyes.

"I mean, Ms. Turner, you seem really skilled at game programming. That's usually something only the guys get into. I heard you're married—let me guess, your husband's a programmer too? Which company does he work for? Someone as talented as you must have an equally talented husband. Why not have him join us at Vertex Dynamics?"

Ailie's lips curled into a sly smile as her eyes drifted—almost involuntarily—toward the table where McNeil and Violet sat together.

Sarcasm colored every arch of her brow. She almost blurted out, "Ms. Turner's husband is your very own Mr. Langford, and right now, he's sitting with that temptress Violet Marchand."

But she bit her tongue, not wanting to startle the group or embarrass Victoria.

McNeil was treating Violet with the utmost courtesy, going out of his way to make her comfortable, as if Victoria didn't even exist.

What would be the point of revealing Victoria's identity as Mrs. Langford now? It would only end up humiliating her.

So Ailie focused on her meal, resisting the urge to stir the pot—though she couldn't help shooting the occasional withering glance in Violet's direction.

As Victoria reached for the dipping sauce, she glanced up and, out of the corner of her eye, caught McNeil's gaze—again. Their eyes met by accident.

For some reason, she had the distinct feeling he'd been looking at her more than once. His gaze wasn't casual, either; it was deliberate, almost frequent.

Ailie noticed, too, and leaned over. "Is your husband staring at you?"

Victoria thought so, but it seemed impossible. Why would he, especially at an event like this? With Violet right there beside him, wasn't he afraid of causing a scene?

Before she could dwell on it, Henry—seated at McNeil's table—stood up, pulling out a chair and calling loudly over Victoria's shoulder, "Mr. Pierce, you're finally here! We're just sitting down to eat—what took you so long?"

"Ms. Ailie, what was that?"

Someone, catching the edge of Ailie's muttered insult but not the full word, looked over with curiosity.

"Oh, nothing. Just reminded me of a story—do you want to hear it?"

Ailie's eyes sparkled with mischief as she cooked up a not-so-innocent idea.

The group perked up. "What story, Ms. Ailie? Come on, tell us!"

Ailie glanced over at Violet and McNeil, then gave a cold little laugh. "It's just something I heard around town. There was this guy, once a rich kid whose family lost everything. He clawed his way back to the top, all thanks to his wife's help. But can you guess what that bastard did in the end?"