The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge novel Chapter 54

Yulia’s heart skipped a beat. This—this was the man she’d once followed without question.

Years had passed, and though money and status had dressed Simms in the trappings of a respectable gentleman, that rough-edged, rakish side of him would always be there, simmering just beneath the surface.

She brought him a cup of tea, her every movement soft and languid, pressing herself close with all the gentle charm she could muster.

“You always said Edith’s daughter was nothing special,” she murmured, voice low and sweet. “We both knew she’d come back one day, but honestly, isn’t that a good thing? You have two daughters—surely you wouldn’t want Victoria to outshine everyone else, would you?”

Simms gave Yulia a long, considering look. With a glance downward he took in her impressive curves and the subtle, intoxicating scent she wore.

Yulia’s skin was flawless, her eyes smoldering with a come-hither light. A tiny beauty mark at the corner of her eye only added to her allure.

She traced lazy circles over Simms’ chest with a slender finger, her voice sultry and teasing. “Patience. We’ve been planning this for years. We’re so close to getting everything we want. I’m not in a hurry—so why are you?”

For the promise of future wealth and privilege, Yulia could endure anything.

Her soothing words melted away most of Simms’ anger. His arm tightened around her waist, eyes darkening with desire.

“You little minx. I love that wild streak in you,” he growled.

Sweeping her into his arms, Simms carried her upstairs. Yulia, knowing her seduction had worked, let her laughter turn even more flirtatious and inviting.

Simms’ simmering anger transformed into a fire he could no longer contain, and he lost himself in Yulia’s embrace.

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**The Turner Family**

Victoria returned home clutching her prize. The house was quiet, with only Haley and a few staff around; Simms’ car was nowhere in sight, and Yulia was gone as well.

She knew neither of them would be back tonight.

This Friday was her mother’s memorial. She planned to visit Edith’s grave with Gwyneth and offer the jade Simms had bought earlier—a symbolic first step in reclaiming what belonged to the Turner family.

It was Osborn. Victoria felt a surge of excitement just reading his words.

She hesitated, then replied, “I might not be able to get away.”

She’d just started at Quantum Core Technologies and hadn’t even found her footing yet. Taking a long break now just wasn’t realistic.

“Really not coming?” Osborn wrote back. “I’m turning twenty-seven this year—after this race, I’m leaving the circuit for good. Vicky, without you my car’s got no soul. Are you really willing to let me end my career with this kind of regret?”

He was even laying it on thick, almost pleading.

Victoria sighed. As much as people called her a finance prodigy, she missed being Vivian—the brilliant young mechanic, the girl who lived for the thrill of the track. Before marriage, it was like racing was her destiny; now, that part of her had gone dormant.

But Osborn’s words stirred up that old fire inside her.

“I’ll think about it,” she replied.