The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge novel Chapter 325

Victoria hadn’t expected Paul to hang up on her.

He’d promised to teach her the algorithm—was he backing out now?

On Saturday, she got herself ready, while Gwyneth waited for her to wake up at home.

When Victoria came downstairs, Gwyneth lit up with excitement.

“Mommy, I brushed my teeth and ate breakfast like a good girl, and I finished my homework, too! Are you taking me out today?”

She’d been waiting all morning, eager for her mom to take her somewhere fun.

Victoria nodded and headed to the dining room. As she passed the trash bin, she caught sight of a bouquet of flowers tossed inside.

Xenia glanced at it as well. The bouquet had been brought home by the mister yesterday, presumably for his wife. When he’d thrown it into the trash, Xenia noticed it was still fresh. Not daring to throw it out herself, she’d just left it there.

“The flowers were from the mister. Maybe he meant them for you,” Xenia offered.

Victoria’s expression didn’t change. For her?

Yeah, right.

If they were for her, why were they in the trash?

At the hospital, Paul had woken up.

His first sight was his tearful mother, his father barely containing his anger, and his aunt—McNeil’s mother—stoic as ever.

“You’re awake, Paul. Don’t you dare go out drinking like that again! Look at yourself, nearly landed in intensive care. Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” Mrs. Nelson sobbed, her eyes red and swollen.

Fitch wanted to scold Paul, but a warning glare from Mrs. Nelson shut him up. “You’re awake, that’s what matters. I’ll let your mother talk to you—I’ve got to get back to work,” he said, making a quick exit.

Madonna, his aunt, stood silently by the bed, her expression unchanged—ten years of the same unflappable calm.

“Auntie, my cousin’s lost it lately,” Paul blurted out as soon as he was conscious. Mrs. Nelson’s tears clung to her lashes, while Madonna frowned, unsure what he meant.

“Are you still drunk? Your cousin came to see you first thing this morning. Why are you picking on him?” Mrs. Nelson reached over to feel Paul’s forehead, worried he’d fried his brain.

Paul batted her hand away and turned to Madonna, pouring out his grievances. “He kept me drinking all night. Seriously, did he just go through a breakup or something? Why else would he drag me down with him?”

Both women’s faces darkened in unison.

Still groggy, Paul patted around for his phone. “Where’s my phone?”

Back at the house—

McNeil came home to find Victoria dressed to go out. His gaze instantly turned cold.

“Where are you going?”

Just then, Gwyneth bounded down the stairs.

“Mommy’s taking me out!” she said, big blue eyes shining up at him.

When he realized Victoria was taking Gwyneth out, McNeil’s expression softened a little.

He picked up his car keys. “Where to? I’ll come with you.”

Victoria’s foot caught on the rug and she nearly stumbled right into him.

McNeil steadied her with an arm around her waist. “Really? Can’t even walk straight—are you a kid or something? Want me to carry you to the car?”

Startled, Victoria darted away faster than a rabbit.

Gwyneth watched the exchange between her parents, then piped up, “Daddy, peel one for me too!”

Victoria slid a little further down the bench, the corner of her mouth twitching.

“McNeil, why don’t you go visit the hospital?” she said dryly.

You really need it.

“Was drinking with Paul more fun than having lunch with me?” McNeil shot back.

Victoria dropped her shrimp again, glaring at him. Was he seriously trying to ruin her meal on purpose?

Wait.

Paul?

That K guy?

“You… know him?”

Could he really know K? No, he’d called him Paul. That man’s real name was Paul.

McNeil peeled another shrimp, this time perfectly, and held it out to her.

“Here. Open up.”

Caught off guard, Victoria opened her mouth and let McNeil feed her, still in a daze.

“You haven’t answered me,” he said quietly.

Victoria’s irritation flared. What was his problem? Was this—their first lunch out as a family in six years—just an excuse to interrogate her?