The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge

Violet casually pulled Gwyneth into her embrace. Gwyneth stared at Victoria, her eyes filled with a cold, unfamiliar disgust that cut deeper than words.

"Mommy, I'm with Violet and Daddy now, and the three of us are so happy together. Why do you always have to bother Violet and bully her? I really wish Violet were my real mommy-she's so much kinder and sweeter than you are."

Standing beside Violet, McNeil caught a glimpse of the wedding dress, and for a moment-just a fleeting moment-he felt a pang of guilt and pity for Victoria.

But when he glanced up and saw the stubborn, unyielding look on Victoria's face, his own expression hardened.

In his memory, Victoria had always been gentle and gracious. All these years of marriage, he'd never once heard her raise her voice or lose her composure with anyone.

And Violet only had a year to live. Why did Victoria have to be so harsh?

"Apologize."noveldrama

The word hung in the air, stunning even Yasmine into silence.

Had Mr. Langford lost his mind? Was he really telling Mrs. Langford to apologize?

Victoria swayed, and Yasmine reached out just in time to steady her.

"It should be her apologizing, shouldn't it?" Victoria's voice trembled, but she forced herself to speak. "She wore my mother's necklace without asking, put on my wedding dress, and now both my husband and daughter have taken her side. McNeil, do you really think I should be the one to apologize?"

Her name Victoria-was printed right there on the marriage certificate. How absurd, she thought, to ask a wife to apologize to the woman who had stolen everything from her.

"Victoria, you really have gone too far today," McNeil said, his tone clipped. "Violet didn't take your mother's necklace, and as for the wedding dress, I'll get to the bottom of it."

With that, he gently lifted Violet into his arms.

But as he moved, Violet stumbled, and the next instant, the dress-a masterpiece worth a fortune, adorned with thousands of sparkling diamonds-tore with a sickening rip.

Diamonds rained down, scattering across the floor in a dazzling, icy shower. The brilliance stabbed at Victoria's eyes, each glimmer like a fresh blade slashing through her heart.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Victoria. I didn't mean to ruin it." Violet's eyes brimmed with tears, wide and frantic, like a frightened fawn. She looked at Victoria but clung to McNeil, desperate for comfort.

"I'll take you upstairs," McNeil murmured to Violet, drawing her close. His gaze flicked over the diamonds littering the floor, cold and dark. "It's just a dress. It's not the end of the world."

The words thundered in Victoria's ears.

She stood ramrod straight, her body burning from the central heating, yet her heart felt frozen, as if she were standing alone in an arctic wasteland.

Half a year's sketches and dreams, months of painstaking work, tens of thousands of diamonds hand-sewn by master artisans-all for the moment she'd imagined: wearing that dress, capturing a memory with McNeil that would last forever.

The dress had cost her nearly everything. Even the funds for it had come from McNeil himself.

He'd once said, "Victoria, you've been by my side through everything. You gave birth to Gwyn for the Langford family, and I want you to be the happiest woman in the world."

Now, the diamonds' brilliance only highlighted the pallor of her face. McNeil's promise of "happiness" rang bitter and hollow, the cruelest joke life had played on her.

Yasmine, hovering nearby, called out softly, "Ma'am..." Her voice broke, unable to go on.

McNeil carried Violet upstairs, with Gwyneth trailing behind.

As Gwyneth stepped over the scattered diamonds, she kicked a few out of her way in open disdain.

Emboldened by her mistress's newfound favor, Violet's maid, who had only just been insulted, couldn't resist sneering.

"So much for the real Mrs. Langford," she muttered. "Looks like she's just yesterday's news."