The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge novel Chapter 42

Because of their past connection, Victoria and Ailie slipped easily into conversation, as if they were back in their university days. The rapport between them was effortless.

Before long, Ailie was pulling out two recent project proposals she’d been working on, eager for Victoria’s opinion. Victoria, as sharp as ever when it came to the stock market and business trends, analyzed them with practiced ease. Even during her years married to McNeil, she’d never taken a day off—she’d reviewed financial statements and tracked market movements from her hospital bed after giving birth.

If not for her relentless efforts behind the scenes, the Langford family would never have achieved their current level of power and influence in Starfall City.

Victoria wasn’t impressed with either of the companies Ailie brought up. She dissected the pros and cons with precision, even going so far as to uncover evidence of financial fraud at one of the firms. Ailie broke out in a cold sweat—her own insider information paled in comparison to Victoria’s insight. Naturally, she deferred to Victoria’s judgment.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Ms. Turner.”

Curtis Garcia had, in fact, been standing outside the door for nearly ten minutes, quietly listening to their conversation.

He’d slowed his steps as soon as he heard Victoria’s analysis. When Ailie had first suggested her old college friend as his new assistant, Curtis hadn’t taken it seriously. She looked young, maybe mid-twenties, and didn’t seem to have much real-world experience. He’d only agreed to meet her out of respect for Ailie’s stellar track record at the firm—if things didn’t work out, he figured he could politely decline.

But before he’d even had a chance to interview Victoria, her conversation with Ailie had already captured his full attention.

He waited until their discussion wound down before finally stepping in.

“Mr. Garcia, this is the classmate I mentioned—Victoria,” Ailie said, practically beaming as she ushered Victoria forward like she was presenting a treasure.

Curtis’s gaze landed on the woman standing before him—no makeup, strikingly beautiful, with a natural elegance that left nothing to be desired. Beneath her poised exterior was an air of quiet confidence, a subtle aloofness in her every gesture. Dressed in a sharp business suit, she looked less like a job applicant and more like a negotiator sent by a powerful investor.

Her brow furrowed slightly. McNeil did have a few close friends, and she vaguely recalled one of them was named Garcia.

In six years of marriage, McNeil had never brought her into his inner circle. His friends knew he was married, and that he had a six-year-old daughter. But they had no idea who the child’s mother was; they just assumed McNeil had gotten involved with someone briefly, fathered a child, and then married the woman to give the child legitimacy—nothing more.

It wasn’t exactly a secret that McNeil was the sole heir of the Langford family. If a woman turned up pregnant, it only made sense for the family to accept the child. In fact, most people assumed the Langfords would be thrilled if McNeil had more kids—especially a son.

No one really cared who the mother was. But everyone knew about Violet.

Curtis gave her an apologetic smile. “That was a good friend of mine, inviting me to dinner tonight. Ms. Turner, if you’re free, you should join us.”