The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge novel Chapter 439

Violet was stunned.

Her feet felt as if they were treading on clouds—unsteady, weightless, as if the ground had vanished beneath her.

Only now did the gravity of the situation truly hit her. Desperate, she dialed Kelvin.

“You have to tell me what’s going on. Why did they suddenly decide they don’t need the rare blood anymore?”

Kelvin, usually quick to pick up, was silent for a long moment. The silence nearly drove Violet mad.

“Ms. Marchand, you should know by now—you were never the one calling the shots. You’re no match for the old man.”

Violet bit her lip so hard she almost drew blood.

“That old bastard used my blood to save Randy. Even my so-called stomach cancer was something he plotted with me. And now what? He’s finished using me and just wants to toss me aside?”

Kelvin sighed. “He’s been playing a long game. Remember when Mr. Langford, his uncle, and his father were all in that car accident? Both Mr. Langford and Randy needed your blood to survive.

The old man actually agreed to you and McNeil being together. But you chose to run off abroad. Later, you struck your own deal with him—he’d turn a blind eye, let you keep saving Randy, and let you stay by Mr. Langford’s side.

He’s kept all of that. Ms. Marchand, have you ever heard the saying that sometimes, being too clever is your own undoing?”

By now, Kelvin couldn’t help her even if he wanted to. He’d never have dared work with someone like Violet if not for the old man’s pressure. It certainly wasn’t Violet’s little temptations that swayed him.

Violet was on the brink of falling apart.

“So now they all just plan to kick me out, is that it? You tell the old man this—I won’t go quietly. McNeil loves me, otherwise he never would have married me.”

Kelvin cleared his throat. “Ms. Marchand, you’re the only one who really knows the truth of all this. Telling me won’t change anything. There’s nothing more I can do for you.

And from now on, we shouldn’t be in contact. If Mr. Langford ever finds out that, apart from saving his life, everything else was just a lie…”

Violet’s hand trembled as she clung to her phone, feeling all strength drain from her body. Could it be that all her years of scheming were about to come to nothing?

She’d waited so long—waited for McNeil and Victoria to break up, finally put on a wedding dress, and even married McNeil. She was closer than ever to becoming Mrs. Langford.

But now, just as she was about to cross the finish line, everything was falling apart. Violet simply couldn’t accept it.

At lunch, eating the nutritious meal McNeil had prepared, Victoria found nothing to criticize. Life was peaceful, even comforting—until an unexpected visitor shattered the calm.

Violet barged into Victoria’s home. The moment she saw McNeil carefully blowing on a spoonful of hot soup and feeding it to Victoria, all the emotions Violet had been bottling up finally erupted.

“So this is why you haven’t come home? Hiding out here, still tangled up with Victoria? Victoria, do you have no shame—clinging to another woman’s husband, does that make you feel good?”

Violet could no longer keep up the façade of calm or pretend at dignity.

She had spent six years scheming for this man. Just one more step, and she’d be Mrs. Langford in name as well as fact. No, she already was—there’d been a wedding, and in the eyes of everyone, their marriage was real. She didn’t fear the law; she had witnesses.

Victoria glanced over at Violet. The housekeeper, not knowing the full story, had let Violet in, thinking she was Ms. Turner’s friend. It hadn’t occurred to her that Ms. Turner’s ex-husband was already married—that this was a confrontation at the door.

The housekeeper hurried over, anxious. “Ms. Turner, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know—shall I show her out?”

She tried to usher Violet out, but Violet shook her off.

Striding up to Victoria, Violet raised her hand, aiming to slap her. McNeil caught her arm mid-swing, his eyes dark with fury.