The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge novel Chapter 132

Victoria’s grip on her phone tightened for a moment.

Still, she answered in an even tone, “Alright.”

Then, silently, she set her phone down.

Ailie sat in her office, replaying Victoria’s words in her mind, but no matter how long she mulled it over, she couldn’t make sense of them.

Just then, Jack knocked on the door, holding a stack of schedules.

“What’s this?” she asked, eyeing him suspiciously as she took the papers.

“Staff roster and seating chart for the day after tomorrow.”

Ailie glanced at the sheets and was so exasperated she couldn’t even find the energy to complain.

Front-of-house lead: Victoria.

Master of ceremonies: Victoria.

And for the list of VIPs Victoria was assigned to greet, the name McNeil stood out.

Damn it, Violet Marchand was definitely doing this on purpose.

Ailie picked up her phone several times, tempted to call Victoria, but figured Victoria had probably seen the list by now.

If ever there was a way to get under someone’s skin, this was it.

Violet really was ruthless—why hadn’t the universe struck her down yet?

“Did you bring these to Mr. Garcia yet?” Ailie asked, barely containing her frustration. Jack, oblivious to her mood, shook his head.

“Not yet.”

“I’ll take them.”

Snatching two copies of the staffing plan, Ailie bolted out of the office and sped toward Victoria’s workspace. She pushed the door open, only to find the office empty.

On her way back, she passed Violet’s office just in time to hear Victoria’s voice from inside.

“Ms. Marchand, you wanted to see me?”

Victoria stood facing Violet, poised and composed, her posture straight and self-assured.

Victoria’s lips curled slightly in amusement. Violet reminded her, “Don’t forget your uniform, Ms. Turner.”

Without a word, Victoria took the box and left.

Ailie had been lurking outside Violet’s office for so long her legs ached. At last, she saw Victoria emerge.

“What did she want?” Ailie asked.

Victoria glanced at the box in her hands. “She gave me a dress.”

“Ugh—”

All the way home that night, Victoria never bothered to open the box.

There was really no need.

It wasn’t until the morning of the company launch event, as she was heading out the door, that she finally remembered Violet’s dress. She opened the box to find a long white gown—nothing flashy, but clearly expensive.

Even Yasmine, catching sight of it, widened her eyes in surprise. The fabric was exquisite; this was no ordinary dress.