The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge novel Chapter 419

From the moment she filed the lawsuit against McNeil, Victoria had already consigned him to her past.

“I never thought about it that way. But you’re planning to marry someone else while carrying my child—”

He hadn’t even finished saying, “I won’t allow it,” before Victoria cut in, her voice steady and resolute.

“So what if I am? Once the baby’s born, whoever I say is the father, that’s who he’ll call Dad. I learned that trick from you, McNeil. You told Gwyn that whoever her father loved could be her mother, didn’t you? Isn’t that what you did?

Wasn’t it always Gwyn’s wish to have someone like Violet for a mother? You gave away the child who came from my own body, handed her over without ever asking me what I wanted.

Well, now I get to decide the fate of the life inside me. If I said today that your worst enemy was the father, the child would believe it.”

McNeil never expected a response like that. He found himself half-kneeling before Victoria, an undignified position that stung more than he cared to admit.

Just like back then, when Victoria had lost control and chased after him, begging him to come home.

Now his emotions roiled inside him, tangled and confused by Victoria’s words. He could hardly think straight.

Victoria, by contrast, was calm and collected, speaking to him without a tremor in her voice. Their roles had completely reversed.

Swallowing his frustration, McNeil looked at her, seeing the same unwavering determination in her face that he’d seen when she asked for the divorce.

“I’m not trying to force you. But I won’t give up, either. Victoria, for the sake of the child, please think this through.”

He stood, ready to leave. But Victoria’s voice followed him, cool and unhurried.

“That’s exactly why you should think carefully—do it for the child. If you can’t be a good father, then don’t come back to disturb us.

I’ve already given Gwyn to you. I hope you and Violet will treat her well. And please, let her know—her mom will always love her.”

A sharp pain shot through McNeil’s chest; this time, Victoria truly meant to let them go.

“There’s never going to be anything between me and Violet. Gwyn won’t accept her as her mother, either.”

Victoria just gave a cold, dismissive smile.

“That’s not my concern. You don’t have to come back and report to me.”

McNeil left. As the door shut behind him, Victoria found herself struggling to breathe, a heaviness pressing down on her heart.

Forced smiles flickered across the guests’ faces as Violet scanned the room, desperate to spot Yulia or Simms—anyone she could turn to for help.

If only, right now, they’d stand up and acknowledge her as their daughter, she wouldn’t be left as the butt of everyone’s jokes.

But when her gaze landed on the family seats, neither Simms nor Yulia was anywhere to be seen.

And then, as if things weren’t bad enough, two uniformed police officers strode in through the doors.

“Excuse me, are you Ms. Violet Marchand?”

One disaster after another.

“What do you want?”

Her tone was curt, edged with irritation.

But as she glanced at the officers, Violet realized she hadn’t done anything illegal—her voice rose in defiance.

“The wedding gown you’re wearing was registered as a design patent by Miss Victoria. A few days ago, someone reported it stolen. We need you to come with us to the station to answer some questions.”