The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge novel Chapter 257

But now, she no longer bothered to involve herself in the affairs between father and daughter. No matter why McNeil reached out to her, her mind was consumed only by her daughter's safety.

"Are you sure you can handle this alone? My phone's on twenty-four-seven—if that jerk tries anything, I'll call the cops before he even knows what hit him."

Ailie said it with such fierce loyalty that Victoria almost laughed despite herself.

"I'll be fine. Let's keep in touch, okay?"

Victoria saw Ailie off to her car, making sure to remind Yasmine to get her home safe, no excuses.

She worried Ailie might lose her temper and come storming back to confront McNeil, which could put her in real danger.

A sleek black sedan idled at the curb, its window rolled halfway down, McNeil's face half-hidden in shadow.

Victoria stared at the car that, once upon a time, had carried her little family on happy outings. Now, it carried another woman. A bitter irony twisted inside her. Only as she drew near did she realize—it was a new car altogether.

The automatic door slid open. McNeil, dressed in a crisp black suit, sat ramrod straight, his expression unreadable. Victoria met his gaze with her own mask of indifference.

"What do you want?"

He didn't even look at her. "Get in."

With calm composure, Victoria lifted the hem of her skirt and slid into the back seat.

The city outside sparkled with life, but inside the car was shadowed and tense, the heavy silence echoing the fractured state of their marriage.

Victoria sat quietly, neither speaking nor prompted to. McNeil kept his eyes forward, his silence as cold as hers.

The car pulled up outside the house they'd once shared. After the driver stepped out, Victoria reached for the door handle—only to hear the distinct click of the locks. McNeil had locked her in.

Her face hardened. In the dimness of the car, McNeil's features looked even more severe.

But it lasted only a heartbeat. Six years of marriage had taught her just how much she'd once adored this face—and how desperately hopeless that love now felt.

Some things simply aren't meant to be yours, no matter how hard you try.

"McNeil, we're not children anymore. Enough."

Was he really trying to make her jealous? The thought didn't move her; it almost made her laugh.

The colder Victoria became, the more determined McNeil was not to let her go.

His hand slid to the delicate line of her neck, his gaze turning predatory.

"Tell me, how far have you gone with him? Did you sleep together?"