The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge novel Chapter 389

He even made McNeil buy that house on Winding Peak Lane—the very one he’d once meant to gift to Victoria—just so he could give it to her instead.

All these years, Violet had advanced step by step, always calculating, always cautious, just for this final victory. Now, with her goal finally within reach, the old man had gone and taken everything from her—literally. He’d had her uterus removed.

Hatred surged in Violet’s chest, wild and relentless, like a storm-tossed sea.

What made it all worse was that McNeil hadn’t called her once this past week. Not a single message. He hadn’t even bothered to ask where she was.

In the end, she had to swallow her pride and reach out to him first, sobbing uncontrollably over the phone.

McNeil immediately picked up on the distress in her voice. In all the time he’d known Violet, he couldn’t recall her ever crying like this.

“What happened?” he asked, concern finally breaking through his usual reserve.

Since his divorce from Victoria, McNeil had been in a deep funk, barely paying attention to anything else. Even the internal share transfers at the company had been handled discreetly, behind closed doors—no one else had any idea.

Violet’s voice was ragged. “McNeil, I’ll never be a mother. I’ll never be a woman again.”

Her sobs came in sharp waves, each one making the situation sound more dire.

“Slow down. Tell me what happened, start from the beginning,” McNeil urged, dread creeping into his voice.

Violet hesitated for a long moment, then finally decided to tell him the whole truth.

“It was your father. When he found out I was able to have children again, he had me kidnapped. He forced me into surgery—he had my uterus removed.”

McNeil was stunned, his expression freezing in shock.

Violet kept crying, her grief echoing down the line, but McNeil was no longer calm.

“How did my father find out about this?” he demanded.

The only time he’d learned Violet could have children was when Victoria had mentioned it in court.

Violet sniffled miserably. “It must have been Victoria who told him. When she came to collect the house, I accidentally let it slip. She must have wanted to make sure we couldn’t be together, so she told your father everything. He did this to make sure I couldn’t have your child. As a woman, losing my ability to have children… My whole life is ruined.”

McNeil gripped his phone in silence for a long time, then finally said, “Where are you now? Text me the address—I’ll come over.”

When McNeil arrived at the apartment building where Violet was staying, he recognized it instantly. It was one of The Langford Group’s properties, but not his—his father’s.

His heart skipped a beat as he headed upstairs.

Her voice was raw with grief, eyes shining with tears as she looked at him.

“If I die, I only have one wish. Please—let me be your bride, even if it’s just for a day.”

McNeil was silent for a long time before he finally spoke.

“I owe you a life, and I’ll repay it. But I can’t marry you, Violet. I just can’t.”

His words struck her like a slap, but she didn’t lash out or complain. Instead, she nodded, heartbreak written all over her face.

“I understand. You don’t need to explain. I’d never force you or make things harder for you. Just know that I love you, McNeil. No matter what happens, there will always be a girl named Violet who lived her whole life for you, willing to give you everything—even her life. If there’s another life after this one, I’d be content just to have a place by your side.”

As she finished speaking, Violet suddenly grabbed a fruit knife from the table and slashed it across her wrist with desperate force.

Blood poured down her arm.

“What are you doing?” McNeil shouted, rushing to her side.

“McNeil, please,” she begged, her voice breaking. “Let me be your bride before I die. Just once—even if it’s just pretend.”