The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge novel Chapter 497

Yulia jumped to argue, but Victoria closed her eyes briefly and spoke, her voice calm but cold. “My father is gone. I’m sorry, everyone, but that’s the end of this meeting. I have to go collect his ashes. The burial is tomorrow, and I hope you’ll all come to say goodbye.”

Just moments ago, Yulia had been shouting, but the news that Simms had already been cremated hit her like a blow to the head. For a second, the world spun out of control.

Violet hadn’t even processed what was happening before she and Yulia were quietly escorted out of Golden Era Enterprises.

“It’s over. Everything’s ruined. Damn that woman, Victoria.”

Yulia never imagined Victoria would pull something like this—cremating Simms before anyone had a chance to say goodbye or even see his body.

With the remains gone, even a paternity test would be useless. As long as Victoria, the “biological daughter,” refused to acknowledge any such test, no one could ever prove that Violet was actually Simms’s daughter.

“Why do you say it’s over? We can’t just let this go.”

A bitter, poisonous glint flashed in Violet’s eyes.

Yulia looked defeated, hollowed out. “What else can we do? There’s nothing left.”

She saw no future for herself anymore.

“We dealt with Simms. We can deal with Victoria the same way.”

If Simms could die, why not Victoria? Anyone who stood in the way of Violet and her mother deserved to be eliminated.

Yulia’s eyes brightened with cruel hope. “You mean—?”

Violet was about to answer when a police cruiser pulled up. Several uniformed officers stepped out, flashing their badges as they approached.

“Are you Violet and Yulia Marchand?”

Both women felt a chill run through them.

“You’re involved in a homicide investigation. Please come with us to assist in our inquiries.”

“No, that’s impossible—Simms is dead! He’s already been cremated. What does this have to do with me?” Violet blurted out.

The officers exchanged a look, their expressions oddly amused. “Who said this was about Simms? Ms. Marchand, we’ll need you to come with us.”

Violet tried to stand her ground, but she had no choice. The officers were already leading her and Yulia away.

Her legs felt like jelly. If both she and Yulia were locked up, there’d be no one left to bail them out.

“Why are you arresting me?” she demanded, but no one answered.

“Sorry, Ms. Marchand. You’ll have to remain here for now,” said one of the detectives.

She was now an official suspect. The authorities only needed to gather enough evidence to indict her.

Violet collapsed, utterly defeated. As she was led away in handcuffs, a look of despair and pathetic pleading twisted across her face.

“I want to see McNeil—Mr. Langford. Please, could you let him know? I need to see him.”

McNeil—he was her last hope.

“That’s not our responsibility,” one officer replied coldly.

The iron door slammed shut. Violet rattled it, her voice rising to a shriek.

“I need to see McNeil! Let me see him! It’s all his fault—if it weren’t for wanting to marry him, I wouldn’t be in this mess. Bring him here! Let me see McNeil!”

She shook the bars in a frenzy, but no one came. Only laughter echoed in the corridor.

“If you ask me,” one officer muttered, “Violet Marchand’s lost her mind. So young, and already so ruthless—killed two people in a hit-and-run, hired a killer… Any one of those charges could put her away for life.”