The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge novel Chapter 308

There were still a few others in the office, but they all knew better than to linger and quietly gathered their things to leave.

McNeil’s brow creased ever so slightly. “I have something to take care of. Wait for me in the lounge,” he said, his voice steady and composed, betraying not the slightest hint of being caught off guard.

Violet felt a tightness in her chest, as if she’d been holding her breath for too long and couldn’t let it out. In front of McNeil, she was always the picture of calm—gracious, gentle, and unruffled.

But his faintly displeased expression hit her like a blow. Violet apologized softly and slipped out of the room.

“All right, I’ll let you get back to work. I’ll have the secretary bring in some pastries for your guests,” she added, trying to keep her voice even.

McNeil didn’t object and turned back to his business discussion.

She flashed a warm smile to those left in the office; every gesture and word marked her out as McNeil’s girlfriend—poised, considerate, and perfectly in control.

Violet waited alone in the lounge for ages. Maybe the agony inside her just made time crawl slower than usual.

When McNeil finally finished his meeting, his secretary came by.

“Mr. Langford, Ms. Marchand has already left.”

McNeil merely nodded. “Okay.”

Stepping out of Vertex Dynamics, Violet was suddenly overwhelmed by the urge to cry.

She pulled out her phone and dialed Yulia Morris. “Aunt Yulia, are you and Uncle Simms free for lunch today? I’d really like to treat you both.”

Yulia’s delight was palpable through the phone. “Of course we’re free! You know we’re always happy to see you. Your uncle and I have been talking about inviting you and Mr. Langford out for a meal, but we were worried you were both too busy with work.”

Violet bit her lip, hesitating for a moment before answering. “McNeil’s really busy. Today it’ll just be the three of us—he won’t be joining.”

She didn’t want to invite him, not after last night.

The memory of what she’d overheard gnawed at her, a thousand tiny claws scratching at her insides. She just couldn’t get past it.

There was a pause on the other end. “Mr. Langford’s not coming? Did you two have a fight?” Yulia asked, a little taken aback.

Yulia and Simms had watched Violet and McNeil’s relationship grow over the years, always with quiet approval. Not once had they heard of the couple arguing. This was the first time ever—an absolute anomaly.

Yulia felt a flicker of anxiety. “No, it’s nothing like that. Please don’t jump to conclusions,” Violet replied, her voice taut with stubborn pride. “I didn’t even tell him I was inviting you. I just wanted some family time, just us. No outsiders.”

The words came out sharper than she intended, but Yulia was no fool. She picked up on the tension immediately—something must have happened between them.

“All right,” Yulia said gently, “just the family. We won’t call anyone else.”

She and McNeil had known each other for years, but they’d never gone all the way—not really. When his grandfather refused to approve of their relationship, Violet had stormed off in anger, hoping to force McNeil to prove his loyalty.

Who could have guessed that while she was abroad, McNeil would marry another woman—a near stranger he’d known less than a week—and have a daughter with her.

When Violet first heard the news, she hadn’t taken it seriously. She was sure it was McNeil’s ploy to make her jealous and win her back.

But she was young and stubborn, too proud to give in. She ended up falling ill and had no choice but to return home.

Just as she’d expected, the moment she was back, McNeil sought her out, caring for her with unwavering devotion.

Yulia and Simms had stepped in right away, urging the two of them to get back together. Violet had relented—barely. If McNeil hadn’t been so attentive, she never would have forgiven him for marrying someone else.

She sat in the restaurant for nearly half an hour before McNeil finally called.

Her eyes stung with tears, but she didn’t answer. He didn’t call again.

Violet thought he might at least send a text, but her inbox was empty. Her mood only darkened.

Just before noon, Simms arrived at the restaurant’s private dining room, Yulia at his side. Both were dressed to the nines—Simms in a suit and tie, Yulia with her hair freshly styled. They’d both made an effort, expecting to dine with McNeil.