The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge

Chapter 144 Ailie was sitting beside Victoria, happily dipping noodles into the bubbling broth and calling over the waiter every few minutes for more fruit. Meanwhile, Victoria was on the phone, but she barely caught a single word of her own conversation.

After chatting with Stein for a bit, Victoria ended the call. Ailie, undeterred, was still preoccupied with her meal. "I've been looking into a couple of new ventures lately. Should be profitable. I'll draw up a detailed proposal and you can recommend it to Mr. Garcia for me," Ailie said, slurping up another mouthful.

Victoria regarded her friend for a moment. Curtis had used her as his mouthpiece, sure, but she knew full well she'd leveraged Quantum Core Technologies to boost the game's profile. If Violet hadn't played dirty, all three companies-Quantum Core, The Langford Group, and Golden Era Enterprises-could have walked away with tidy profits.

But they'd set off their own self-destruct sequence. She had no reason to feel guilty.

Business was business. If Victoria hadn't been a little cutthroat, McNeil wouldn't have held on to his throne for so long.

Ailie paused to sip her soup, eyeing the pot's broth as she considered mixing it with rice. Hearing Victoria's plan, she blurted out, "After everything Curtis did to you, you're still willing to help him? I thought you'd have quit by now." Victoria didn't bother lying. "He sold the gand gavea five-hundred- thousand-dollar cut." They finished the meal, but Ailie ended up drinking a bit too much. By the tthey left the restaurant, she was staggering, and Victoria nearly failed to keep her upright. In the end, they had to call Yasmine to help get her into the car.

The whole ride home, Ailie sat in the back seat, singing at the top of her lungs, as if she'd been the one handed half a million dollars. Watching her friend's giddy, drunken antics, Victoria felt an unexpected warmth in her chest.

Yasmine drove Ailie home, and Victoria waited outside until she saw her friend safely inside before heading back to the Turner family estate.

When Victoria arrived, she was surprised to find Simms' car parked in the driveway. He rarely chthese days, and she wondered what had brought him back.

Simms was waiting for her in the living room, but Yulia wasn't with him.

"Victoria, I picked up a set of emerald jewelry. Take a look-see if you like it," he said, handing her an elegant box. Victoria glanced at it but didn't reach out.

No one offers a gift for nothing; he must want something.

"Is there something you need, Dad?" Seeing she made no move to accept the box, Simms set it down on the coffee table.

"Your mother loved these things when she was alive. I saw them and thought of her. Do with them as you see fit," he said flatly.

Victoria opened the box; the emeralds gleamed, clearly worth a small fortune. She suspected she knew exactly what this was about.

"If it was meant for Mom, then I'll thank you on her behalf," she said coldly.

Simms had given plenty to Yulia already. Anything he handed her now was only fair.

To Victoria's surprise, Simms didn't ask for anything in return. Instead, he just said, "I'm hosting a dinner tomorrow night. You're my daughter, so I expect you to be there." He hesitated. "Yulia will be there as well. I know you don't care for her, but I'm getting older, and I need someone I can rely on by my side. I don't have to marry her, but I do want her to stay. As your father, I hope you can give us your blessing." Victoria smiled faintly. "You're overthinking it, Dad. If you're set on having her around, there's nothing I can do to stop you. But I stand by what I've said before. I'll cto dinner tomorrow, but it's late now. I'm heading up to bed." As she walked away, Simms bit his tongue, forcing down the words he wanted to say.

That night, the first spring storm rolled in. Thunder rumbled overhead and lightning split the sky as Victoria sat curled up on her bed, knees to her chest, staring out the window at the wild weather. The sounds of wind and rain filled the room.

For the past six years, whenever storms like this rattled the house, she would have huddled in McNeil's arms, their daughter nestled between them, the thunder in the distance only making her feel warmer, safer, happier.

Tonight, though, she woke alone, startled by the thunder. For the first time, she faced the darkness by herself, feeling lost and hollow.

The clock on the wall read three a.m. Without her there, would Gwyneth be frightened? Or maybe Violet was there to comfort her.

She picked up her phone, hesitated, then dialed the house's landline. Just this once maybe, by smiracle, Gwyneth was hand needed her. Xenia, the housekeeper, answered sleepily and seemed startled to hear Victoria's voice.

"Ma'am? Is everything alright?" The big house was empty now-only the staff and Xenia were left since Victoria moved out. Her husband and Gwyneth hadn't returned once.

"Is Gwyneth at home?" Victoria asked, hoping for reassurance.

Xenia paused, a twinge of sadness in her voice. "Miss Gwyneth is probably with Mr. McNeikat that other woman's place. They haven't been back."

Victoria felt her heart sink. The phone felt impossibly heavy in her hand, but really, she'd known the answer before she called. Why torture herself again? She forced a small "okay," and, oddly, felt a slight relief-at least Gwyneth wouldn't be alone tonight.