The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge novel Chapter 37

She’d heard of Quantum Core Technologies.

The message above told her to come in for an interview at 9 a.m. tomorrow.

It was the only company that had offered her a chance.

Victoria studied the address carefully, committing it to memory.

The afternoon slipped by in a blur, and soon it was five o’clock—time for Gwyneth to finish school. Victoria went to pick her up.

“We’re having dinner at Great-Grandpa’s place tonight,” she told her daughter, noting the little frown on her face.

“Is Daddy coming too?” Gwyneth asked, and Victoria gently smoothed her hair, just as she always did.

“Of course.”

Gwyneth almost asked if Violet would be there as well, but knowing her mom would be present, she doubted Violet would show up. Besides, Violet was still sick, so she kept quiet.

Victoria brought Gwyneth home. When Gwyneth asked to watch TV, Victoria put her foot down at once.

“Homework first. Besides, your dad will be here any minute.”

Her words were met with dramatic dismay—Gwyneth’s eyes filled with tears as she trudged off to her room, rubbing at them.

“Why do I have to finish my homework first? Violet never has to do this,” she mumbled.

Even so, Gwyneth had always been raised by Victoria. No matter how much she complained, she never dared defy her.

When McNeil got home, Victoria was helping Gwyneth with her homework.

The sight of mother and daughter together in the study was a picture of quiet harmony.

McNeil stood in the doorway for a moment, watching them, until Xenia, the housekeeper, called out, “Sir?”

Victoria and Gwyneth both turned. Gwyneth immediately dropped her pen and dashed over, throwing her arms around McNeil’s leg. “Daddy—”

While being scooped up into his arms, she leaned in and whispered in his ear, “Can we go to Great-Grandpa’s now? Mommy made me do homework for ages—my hand is so tired.”

McNeil tapped her nose, his expression soft with affection.

“All right. Let’s go now.”

There it was again. She was sick of hearing it.

Seeing the bigger picture—that was the lever he’d always used to wring every last drop of value from her.

“I used to be. But you’re not worth it.”

She tried to pull her hand away, but McNeil wouldn’t let go.

He didn’t release her until she looked up at him, stubborn and unyielding, her defiance laid bare. At last, he pressed his fingers to his brow, clearly exasperated.

“Victoria, just get through this dinner. If you have issues, we can talk about them at home.”

And with their daughter watching, he didn’t want Gwyneth to see her parents at odds. She was too young—and if the old man caught wind of any trouble, he’d never hear the end of it.

“Daddy, Mommy, what’s taking so long?”

Gwyneth had grown impatient waiting in the car and came looking for them.

From a distance, she saw Victoria and McNeil locked in a silent standoff, having no idea what they were saying—only that her mother looked upset, and her father unusually quiet.