The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge novel Chapter 451

Yulia Morris could hardly believe a woman could be so shameless. Her face flushed bright red with rage.

“Honey, who is she?”

Fiona feigned innocence, but her gaze was all provocation. Simms Miller slid his arm around Fiona’s waist and tilted her chin up, never sparing Yulia or her daughter Violet Marchand a second glance.

“Old hag, did you even go to the doctor? What did they say?”

Fiona’s words sliced through the room; she made sure everyone could hear her taunt.

Yulia forced herself to keep calm. “I did. Our son is perfectly healthy,” she replied.

Simms, too busy flirting with Fiona, ignored Yulia entirely. When he finally noticed that Yulia and Violet were still standing there, he scowled.

“Why are you two still here? Don’t you realize how much you’re in the way?”

Yulia struggled to keep her composure. “If you want to have a mistress, I can turn a blind eye. But you can’t just abandon your daughter.”

Violet’s face twisted in pain and fury, mirroring her mother’s. She felt like a tool—used and discarded the moment she was no longer useful. The man in front of her was her biological father, yet he was crueler than the rural couple who’d raised her for money but had still shown her love.

If she’d never returned here, she might never have witnessed such ugliness, or felt such agony in her heart.

“Dad—”

Violet’s voice trembled. She wanted the word to stir some shred of conscience in Simms, but Fiona cut her off, grabbing Simms by the jaw, her voice dripping with scorn.

“Who does she think she’s calling ‘Dad’? If you’re her father, then what about the baby I’m carrying?”

Violet was so angry, her face turned green.

Simms shot her a cold look. “Did you hear her? Fiona doesn’t want you calling me ‘Dad.’ From now on, you call me Mr. Miller.”

Yulia couldn’t hold back any longer. She stormed up to Simms and slapped him hard across the face.

Taking advantage of the chaos, Fiona leaned her belly right into Yulia’s kick, then collapsed to the floor, gasping in pain, sweat and tears streaming down her face.

Moments later, a dark stain spread beneath her as blood seeped between her legs.

“My baby—Simms, it hurts! Oh God, my stomach—!”

Simms froze, then spun on Yulia, grabbing her and throwing her to the ground. He stomped hard on her, fury twisting his face.

“How dare you hurt my woman! If anything happens to my son, you’ll pay for it with your life!”

He kicked Yulia again and again, leaving her barely conscious. His violence was so chilling, even Violet shrank back in fear, unable to move.

Yulia’s lips were split and bleeding, but she stared up at Simms, defiance burning in her eyes.

“Simms, I curse you. May you die alone, childless, and miserable.”