The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge novel Chapter 480

“Of course I mean it literally. It’s not like I don’t have hands,” Violet shot back.

Her assistant rolled her eyes, making a silent vow to march straight to HR today—she was done being Violet’s lackey.

“Ms. Marchand, we’re all equals here. If you want something to drink, get it yourself. Stop bossing people around,” someone called out, standing up for the assistant.

Violet whipped her head around, glaring at the speaker. “Did I say you could speak? Who do you think you are, butting in?”

“Ms. Marchand, that’s out of line,” the woman retorted. “At least everyone in our department actually works for a living, unlike some people who sleep their way to new clients. This is the PR department, not a brothel.”

The implication couldn’t have been clearer. Violet heard it loud and clear—these people were one step away from calling her a whore to her face.

“What did you just say?” Violet’s voice shook with rage; she was still reeling from being humiliated by Simms and now she was getting it from her own team.

She wanted to take out her frustration on them, but the PR staff had been itching for a chance to go after her.

“Don’t act like you don’t know what we mean,” someone snapped.

“You stole Maisie’s client. She worked her tail off for weeks, and you get all the credit just because you slept with someone. Have you no shame?”

“Exactly! Who do you think you are? You’ve barely been here a week, and just because you’re the manager you think you can take credit for everybody else’s work?”

One after another, the disgruntled employees surrounded Violet.

But before she could finish, a hand cracked across her face.

“Hit her! Teach this shameless bitch a lesson. She’s ruining the company’s reputation.”

“We all play by the rules and win clients on merit, but she thinks she can spread her legs and get ahead. Disgraceful.”

Stunned, Violet barely had time to process the first slap before another hit landed, and then another—she couldn’t even tell who was striking her.

“Do you dare lay a hand on me?” she gasped, incredulous.

“Damn right we do! And word is, you’re not even Mr. Langford’s girlfriend—you’re just the side piece. People are talking. Mr. Langford’s married, and you got run out of The Langford Group, only to come here and stir up trouble. Well, we’re not letting you off easy. Girls, let her have it!”