The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge novel Chapter 48

“Damn, Curtis, you’ve actually got a girl now? Come on, introduce us already!” Marcus teased, nudging him as they left the crowded bar.

Curtis just grinned. “It’s not even official yet. Maybe another time.”

Isaac watched Curtis’s hurried retreat and smirked. “What do you think, should we follow him? I want to see what kind of angel could make Curtis finally fall for someone.”

McNeil, trailing behind the group, didn’t share their enthusiasm. “You guys go ahead. I’m taking Violet home—it’s getting late.”

Outside, the night air bit through their jackets, cold enough to make them quicken their steps.

Victoria realized she’d left her purse inside and turned back to find it. Ailie waited outside for Curtis, alone.

As Victoria stepped out with her bag, she almost collided with McNeil, who had Violet and Gwyneth with him. Marcus and Isaac were close behind.

McNeil stopped dead in his tracks, clearly not expecting to run into Victoria.

Violet was just as surprised—was Victoria following them again?

No one in McNeil’s friend group knew about his secret marriage to Victoria. As far as everyone else was concerned, Violet was his legitimate girlfriend, free to stand beside him in the open. If word got out about Victoria, she’d instantly be painted as the other woman—a homewrecker. That kind of scandal wouldn’t just be humiliating; McNeil’s father, Mr. Thorpe, would never let her off the hook.

And to make matters worse, Gwyneth was right there. Violet’s heart pounded—what if Gwyneth called out “Mommy” in front of everyone?

Victoria and McNeil locked eyes for a split second. Victoria had already known he was here, so she just kept her cool and walked past them, her face unreadable.

Gwyneth, on the other hand, was genuinely anxious. She thought her mom was there to take her home, so she instinctively hid behind Violet’s legs, making no move to greet Victoria.

“McNeil, what’s up?” Isaac and Marcus noticed him dragging his feet.

He shook his head, forcing himself to move on. “Nothing. Let’s go.”

Victoria collapsed onto the bed, her head spinning, barely conscious as Xenia helped her change out of her day clothes. Unable to find any of Victoria’s pajamas, Xenia grabbed one of McNeil’s shirts from the closet and slipped it over her. The oversized button-down just about covered her, but her long, pale legs were left bare, the scene carrying an oddly intimate undertone.

Deep into the night, Xenia heard the sound of a car pulling into the driveway.

Mr. Thorpe was home.

McNeil’s first words as he stepped inside: “Where is she?”

Xenia flinched, nervous. “She came back and went straight to bed.”

A flash of anger flickered in McNeil’s eyes. He ripped off his tie and climbed the stairs, his footsteps heavy with frustration.

“Sir, please go easy on her,” Xenia called after him. “She’s had too much to drink. She seems… really upset.”