The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge novel Chapter 470

McNeil’s voice was ice-cold. “Mr. Campbell makes it sound so easy—he seduced another man’s wife and still manages to look like the noble one.”

He turned on his heel, not bothering to look back. Stein’s driver, who had overheard McNeil’s words, exchanged a glance with him. Their families had served the Campbells for generations.

“General, want me to teach that guy a lesson?” the driver asked quietly.

Stein didn’t seem the least bit bothered. “Let it go. Just drive.”

When McNeil slid into his own car, the nanny caught sight of his stormy expression and immediately shrank back, barely daring to breathe.

The truth was, Mr. Langford was usually a gentle man. He wasn’t much of a talker, but he was genuinely good to his wife and children. The household staff often whispered that he even owned a company and was quite wealthy.

The nanny had worked in a few upscale homes before, and she’d always harbored doubts about Mrs. Langford’s status. Couples with that kind of closeness were rare among the rich—it was usually the mistress who got pampered like that.

Mr. Langford spent nearly all his time at home, doting on his wife and kids. The nanny couldn’t recall ever seeing him leave the house.

Later, she overheard a bit of gossip: apparently, Mr. and Mrs. Langford were already divorced. Now it was Mr. Langford clinging to her, afraid to leave her side because Mrs. Langford had plenty of suitors. He simply couldn’t bear to be apart from her.

Thankfully, the children were sound asleep. Even so, the nanny felt a heavy pressure in the air with Mr. Langford’s dark mood. She unconsciously lowered her head, trying to make herself invisible.

McNeil kept his eyes fixed on the front door, waiting. Before long, Victoria emerged.

He signaled the driver to pull the car around to a discreet spot with a good view. As soon as Victoria got in, they headed for home.

“Take us back,” McNeil said quietly to the driver.

He took a shortcut, arriving at the house nearly ten minutes ahead of Victoria.

When Victoria finally returned, McNeil was in the kitchen preparing ingredients, planning to cook her a lavish meal.

Their eyes met, just for a moment, before Victoria turned away and went straight to check on the children.

He moved around the island and grabbed her wrist, holding her still.

The staff, sensing the tension, quietly slipped out of the room, careful not to intrude.

“Yes, we’re divorced,” McNeil said, his voice low. “But you’re still the mother of my children. You have no idea how fake he is with you.”

Victoria let out a cold laugh. “Oh, he’s not genuine? And you are, McNeil? If you’re so sincere, why did we end up divorced?”

Her eyes cut right through him. McNeil was at a loss for words, color rising to his cheeks.

Finally, he let go of her wrist. “We’re missing a fruit platter for lunch. I’ll go cut some up.”

Victoria’s reply was flat: “Don’t bother. I’ll be eating out later anyway.”