The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge novel Chapter 965

Maeve sat quietly in the living room, flipping through a meticulously curated photo album. The pages were stuffed with memories from their two years together—candids of them dining at upscale restaurants, watching the sunrise from the terrace, strolling by the lake, and even intimate shots of them kissing in bed.

These captured moments were her entire territory. As she turned the pages, her gaze grew increasingly venomous.

The sudden chime of the doorbell snapped her out of her trance. She shoved the album into a drawer and walked over to open the door. Standing in the foyer was a plump, middle-aged woman with a fair complexion and a warm, inviting smile. Maeve’s eyes raked over her with intense scrutiny.

“Ms. Sterling? Mr. Everhart hired me to manage the household. You can just call me Mrs. Shannon.”

Maeve plastered on a sickeningly sweet smile.

“Please, come in.”

Maeve didn't offer a greeting in return. Mrs. Shannon took a moment to study her.

“Should I be addressing you as Mrs. Everhart?”

Maeve’s posture stiffened, but she instantly smoothed out her features.

“You can call me whatever Mr. Everhart instructed you to. Mrs. Everhart is fine, though we aren't officially married just yet, so Ms. Sterling works perfectly well too.”

Mrs. Shannon offered a polite nod. Most women would be clawing to use the billionaire’s surname to secure their status, but this Ms. Sterling was certainly playing a different game.

Stepping inside, Mrs. Shannon removed her coat, hanging it neatly by the door. As she began slipping into her pristine uniform, she politely asked if there were any dietary restrictions she needed to know about. Before she could even turn around, Maeve unleashed a bloodcurdling scream that made the older woman jump.

Without missing a beat, Mrs. Shannon opened her palm to reveal a crushed, black insect. Maeve stumbled back in genuine horror.

“If there’s nothing else, I’ll be heading to the kitchen. Sir mentioned he’d be home for lunch, and it’s only thirty minutes until his break. If I delay any longer, I won't have his meal ready.”

“If you feel that my actions today caused you any undue distress, you are more than welcome to report me directly to Mr. Everhart and let him decide my fate.”

Maeve stared at this seemingly plain, unassuming woman and realized she had just been brilliantly outmaneuvered. Every word Mrs. Shannon spoke was a calculated strike, leaving Maeve entirely unsure of who actually held the power in this house.