The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge

When Victoria returned to the Turner house, she felt the exhaustion seep out of her bones, replaced by a quiet sense of triumph.

Emily was waiting for her. The doctor had called after her check-up-she was fine.

"Well?" Emily asked, her voice trembling with hope.

Victoria gave a soft, measured smile. "The company is back in my hands. No one can take what Grandpa left us."

She'd moved quickly, thank goodness. Simms was cremated, the police took both Yulia and Violet away—everything unfolded with perfect timing. If any step had faltered, she would've been drowning in trouble.

"That's wonderful-" Emily breathed, her relief so profound it was almost as if she could finally die in peace.

Now, if her time really was near, she could meet her sister and father without regret.

"Aunt Emily, you don't need to worry anymore. No one will ever threaten the Turners again."

Violet was likely gone for good.

Yulia, though, would take more patience. She was clever-never left a trace, always two steps ahead. If Simms hadn't gone too far, if she hadn't won that lawsuit, if Yulia hadn't feared Simms would seek revenge... she wouldn't have dared to kill him. Only this time did Victoria finally get her chance to turn the tables.

Dealing with Violet was easier. That woman had committed enough crimes for a lifetime, and without McNeil's protection, bringing her down was almost effortless. Now that Simms was dead, even those who'd once turned a blind eye to Violet out of respect for him were treating her with cold professionalism.

Emily sat on the couch. For the first time in years, she closed her eyes and truly felt at peace.

As they spoke, Haley walked in.

"Miss Victoria, Mr. McNeil Langford is here."

Since the divorce, Haley always called him Mr. McNeil Langford now-formal and distant.

Victoria said nothing, waiting for Haley to continue.

"He says he's here to pick up Miss Gwyneth for school."

Victoria's voice was calm. "Alright. Remind him he doesn't need to come in person next time. I'll take her myself."

She had no desire to relive the mess in Evermore City. She didn't want him using Gwyneth as an excuse to see her.

"Understood."

Emily glanced at Victoria but kept her thoughts to herself. This was Victoria's private life. She'd trust her to handle it.

In the end, McNeil saw only Gwyneth. Victoria didn't so much as cross his path.

Haley's expression gave nothing

away as she addressed him. "Mr

Langford, Miss Victoria asks that you not come for Gwyneth tomorrow. She'll take her to O

preschool herself."

McNeil's face stiffened, but he gave a cool nod. "Alright."

He took Gwyneth's hand, but the warmth in his palm didn't reach his heart.

Haley added, "Miss Victoria will pick her up after school too. There's no need for you to come."

McNeil's lips parted, but he swallowed everything he wanted to say. "Fine."

If Victoria didn't want him there, he'd stay away.

Everything, just as she wished.

Haley returned inside. Victoria was still there, staring into the middle distance, her expression unreadable.

"It's all been said, Miss," Haley reported quietly.

Victoria gave a distracted nod, her mind far away. "Thank you."

Even when it came to their child, she and McNeil barely had words left for each other. Some wounds from marriage cut too deep-there's no going back.

She liked her life now: no expectations, no disappointments, nothing to desire

from anyone.

That afternoon, Victoria went to pick

up

be met by the teacher'snoveldrama

Son Boneth from preschool,

face.

"Gwyneth? She's already been picked up."

A dull ache pulsed at Victoria's temples.

only to

Did McNeil not understand a word she said? She'd told him clearly-she would

pick up their daughter.

Sighing, Victoria pulled out her phone and called him.

He answered almost instantly. His voice, deep and a little unsteady, came through

the line: "Hello-?"

Since their divorce, she'd never once called him.

"Where did you take Gwyneth?"

McNeil sounded genuinely confused. "Gwyneth? I thought you were picking her

up?"