The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge novel Chapter 500

After saying all that, Violet hung up immediately. At last, she’d managed to pick up on some of the conversation.

“Violet, are you threatening my mom?” Gwyneth’s voice trembled in disbelief. She couldn’t wrap her head around it—Violet, who had always doted on her, was now using her life to threaten her mother.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m doing.” Violet’s voice was ice-cold. “Victoria stole everything from me—my life, my future—and she’s the one who’s about to send me to prison. Now, we’ll see just how much you matter to your mother. If she doesn’t love you, you can prepare to go down with me. If I don’t get to live, you don’t get to die in peace, either. I want Victoria to spend the rest of her miserable life drowning in regret.”

Gwyneth’s tears dried up in an instant. She stared at Violet as if she were a stranger. Her little heart felt as if it had been smashed to pieces.

Was this really the Violet who used to love her so much?

“Ms. Marchand, why would you say something like that? Didn’t you always like Gwyneth?” The housekeeper’s voice trembled, unable to believe what she was hearing.

Gwyneth couldn’t hold back anymore. She burst into tears again, but this time it wasn’t out of fear—it was heartbreak.

Violet’s frustration only deepened at the sound of her crying. “Shut up! You’re driving me insane. I never liked you—I don’t like children at all. I’m warning you, don’t start bawling in front of me again. Or I’ll tape your mouth shut and throw you out for the wild dogs.”

There wasn’t a trace of compassion left in her. After Simms had forced her into the beds of those old men, she’d lost all standing in high society. No matter how much money she managed to make later, she could never squeeze herself into that so-called “pure and innocent” circle—a world that was rotten to its core beneath the surface.

She was betting everything that Victoria would never abandon Gwyneth. The woman loved McNeil so much she’d lost herself; she’d even risked everything to have Gwyneth and endured watching her daughter love Violet best, all for his sake.

Pathetic, Violet thought. She had no interest in that kind of woman. All she cared about was profit, not romance. If McNeil hadn’t been powerful and wealthy, she wouldn’t have spared him a glance.

Violet had never, for a single moment, envied Victoria. Living off a man, cashing in at divorce—sure, that took skill. But in the end, it was Violet’s own carelessness that let Victoria get the upper hand. Otherwise, Violet would be the one calling the shots now.

Now that Gwyneth was in her hands, Violet was clear about what she wanted: not just some paltry sum. She’d make Victoria cash out half her shares from the Langford family fortune and hand them over—nothing less would do.