The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge novel Chapter 91

Victoria spotted McNeil and Violet beneath the fireworks, Curtis, Isaac, and Marcus nearby, with little Max in tow.

From a distance, the group was laughing and enjoying themselves, the night alive with their easy camaraderie.

“Dad, Ms. Marchand, you’re out here setting off fireworks and didn’t even invite me.”

Gwyneth’s voice carried a hint of indignation.

Violet crouched down in front of her, her eyes twinkling. “Weren’t you the one who said you had plans tonight?”

McNeil had asked Gwyneth earlier what she was up to, and she’d said she was going to see her mom. She never mentioned this to Violet, only saying she had a craft project and needed to look something up on the computer.

She’d even whispered in Violet’s ear, promising not to intrude on her “special time” alone with Dad.

Violet saw right through her little scheme but chose not to call her out.

Isaac couldn’t help but ask, “It’s pretty late, Gwyneth. Who brought you here?”

“My mom, of course.”

Gwyneth replied without missing a beat. The three men—except for McNeil—immediately turned to look in the direction where Victoria stood.

The streetlamp behind Victoria cast her face in shadow; no one could see her expression.

Violet felt her whole body tense, unable to move for a moment.

Victoria was really here. If she came over to say hello, what would happen if she and McNeil were recognized as a couple?

“Is that your wife, McNeil? Why don’t you call her over?” Curtis asked, curiosity piqued. Marcus and Isaac looked just as eager.

After all, Gwyneth’s mom was McNeil’s mysterious, never-before-seen wife. Who wouldn’t want to finally catch a glimpse of her?

Even Violet couldn’t handle McNeil’s stubbornness, yet this woman had not only married him but had a daughter with him.

“Should we go invite her?” Isaac offered, almost jumping with anticipation. Violet’s face had turned an alarming shade of pale.

McNeil cut them off. “No.”

Marcus protested, “Come on, McNeil. You run into your wife and don’t even ask her to join us? Besides, you and Violet are just friends now. Don’t let her get the wrong idea.”

“Ms. Turner…”

Yasmine hurried over, draping a cashmere coat over Victoria’s shoulders. Victoria gazed at her, eyes unfocused and distant.

“Oh my God, you’re freezing, Ms. Turner. Come on, let’s get you in the car. What are you doing out here in the middle of the night?”

She just didn’t understand.

Victoria slid into the passenger seat, and Yasmine cranked the heat up full blast. It took five minutes for color to return to Victoria’s cheeks, for her to finally exhale and let herself breathe again.

As they drove back, they passed McNeil’s car parked by the curb. Violet held a sparkler, Gwyneth laughing as she chased her, both faces aglow in the firework’s light, with McNeil watching over them, hands in his pockets.

Anyone passing by would have thought they were the picture of a perfect family.

Victoria rolled up the window. McNeil glanced at the car, catching sight of her for just a second before looking away, letting them pass as if she were a stranger.

Yasmine wanted to say something comforting, but found she had no words at all.