The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge novel Chapter 422

McNeil looked at the icy expression on Victoria’s face and finally relented.

“Fine. I agree.”

He knew she was furious, but right now, he’d agree to anything if it meant he could stay near her.

“Good. I’ll have my assistant send you a meal plan later. Just follow it each day.”

McNeil’s expression darkened, but he said nothing.

Victoria turned and walked back to the living room. He was about to follow when the door slammed shut in his face.

Left alone in the hallway, McNeil’s face clouded over completely.

If she wanted him to cook, shouldn’t she at least let him inside?

His phone buzzed in his hand. He glanced at the screen—it was a message from Victoria.

“Arrive and leave work on time. Outside of work hours, you go home.”

McNeil stared at the message for a long moment, but found no hint of reconciliation in her words.

She really did see him as nothing more than the help now.

But all the fight had drained out of him. He replied quickly: “Alright.”

Victoria saw the instant reply and the corners of her mouth lifted in a faint smile.

Yasmine glanced at her cautiously. “Ms. Turner, aren’t you going to let Mr. Langford in?”

Victoria shrugged. “Why should I? Call Lyndon and the others for me. Tell them I’m throwing a party here tomorrow. Then make a list of all the food and send it to McNeil.”

She walked as she spoke, her mind already working.

“Lyndon loves barbecue. The others—some want grilled fish, some want stew, and there are a few who’d rather have pasta. About ten people in all. If we start tonight and go through till morning, that should be enough time to get the ingredients ready.”

Yasmine raised an eyebrow. So this was what Ms. Turner meant by having Mr. Langford cook three meals a day?

Well, well.

But now, he couldn’t let Victoria go—especially now that she was carrying his child.

“Alright.”

Maynard hung up, then turned to Yulia. “I’m sorry, Ms. Morris. Mr. Langford is extremely busy right now. I’m afraid he won’t be able to help Ms. Marchand for the time being.”

Yulia’s temper flared. “My niece and McNeil just had their wedding. She’s his wife now. Now the honeymoon’s over, he just vanishes—what’s that supposed to mean?”

Maynard shook his head helplessly. “That’s not for me to say. If Ms. Marchand has questions, she should ask Mr. Langford herself.”

In Maynard’s memory, Mr. Langford was never the type to abandon someone without warning—at least, not anyone but his wife. He had no idea what had gotten into him; McNeil had disappeared from Starfall City overnight without a word to anyone, not even his closest staff.

“If I could get a hold of him myself, do you think I’d be here talking to you?”

Violet had tried calling McNeil countless times, but he never answered. Yulia wanted to get Violet released on bail, but there was a problem: the dress Violet wore at the wedding was outrageously expensive, and the designer had filed a patent infringement claim.

That kind of offense could mean over a decade behind bars. Now, she was just waiting for the court to press charges—bail wasn’t even an option.