The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge

Chapter 337 Isaac looked at Marcus's miserable, lost expression and couldn't even muster the courage to offer him advice. All he could do was send a text to McNeil, hoping he'd cover and rescue them from this awkward mess.

"Marcus, con, there are plenty of fish in the sea. A woman like that-well—” She really was stunning; even Isaac had to admit he was practically drooling over her. Maybe, once things wrapped up, he'd work up the nerve to ask for her number if she'd even give it.

Marcus slumped onto the couch, his words sluggish and heavy.

"Isaac." His voice sounded unusually low, almost guttural.

"Yeah?" Isaac glanced over at Victoria but, with Marcus there, he felt too self-conscious to approach her. "Am I getting old?" Isaac almost spat out his drink, choking on it as he glanced across the room at the group of young, ridiculously attractive guys-barely out of college, all sharp features and toned bodies.

They really were young, and damn near perfect.

Meanwhile, he and Marcus were pushing thirty; in a few years, they'd be well into it.

"Con, don't be ridiculous_" Marcus took a long, hard swig of his drink.

"Marcus, maybe we should head somewhere else?" Isaac suggested, thinking maybe a bar with more women would do wonders for Marcus's confidence.

This place had been taken over by that group of women, and with all those pretty boys around, guys like them didn't stand a chance.

Marcus stood up. Isaac, not ready to leave, cast one last longing look at Victoria, sighed, and shook his head as he followed Marcus out.

They'd barely reached the door when McNeil barreled inside.

"McNeil! We're leaving!" Isaac called out, but McNeil didn't seem to hear him.

Marcus, clearly done with the night, got into his car and glared impatiently at Isaac. "Are you coming or not?" Isaac pointed back at the bar. "Isn't he here for us?" With a sharp slam, Marcus shut the car door. "You can get a ride hyourself." And with that, he sped off, leaving Isaac standing there, dumbfounded, watching Marcus's car disappear down the street.

"Has he lost his mind?" Isaac muttered.

He started thinking about McNeil, and was just about to head back inside when a chorus of police sirens suddenly cut through the night, growing louder by the second.

"Shit-" Isaac jumped, his heart pounding as he watched a squad of heavily armed police officers storm into the bar. He shrank back, bewildered and more than a little alarmed.

He nudged a stunned bystander. "What's going on? Are they after a fugitive or something?" The guy looked just as shocked. "This many cops, at this hour? Maybe it's a raid?" Isaac's mind went blank. No way. He'd just cout for a drink-no shady business, nothing illegal. How the hell did this turn into a raid? He craned his neck to get a better look inside, just in tto see McNeil coming out-carrying a woman in his arms.

Isaac's eyes nearly popped out of his head. Of all people, he never expected the usually uptight Mr. Langford to be into... whatever this was.

He watched as McNeil ushered the woman into his car. She seemed to be struggling, but McNeil held firm. Then, a swarm of police officers poured out of the bar, escorting a herd of those handsyoung men out in cuffs. The music inside abruptly stopped, and someone slapped two giant white X-shaped seals across the door.

Isaac felt like he was dreaming. He'd never seen a regular bar get shut down in a raid like this before. Maybe the whole night was cursed.

He called McNeil, but nobody answered.

He lingered around until the crowd had dispersed and the street was empty, only then realizing just how late it had gotten.

His phone rang. It was Violet.

Isaac hesitated, but picked up.

"Ms. Marchand. It's pretty late-what's up?" "I wanted to know if McNeil is with you," she said.

She'd already tried Marcus and Curtis; Curtis was still at the office, Marcus wasn't picking up, so she'd called Isaac as a last resort.

"No, he just left-with a woman, actually." Isaac had a sudden, terrible thought. "That wasn't you, was it?" Violet paused, clearly blindsided by his answer. But after a moment, she composed herself.

"Impossible. McNeil isn't that kind of man."

Isaac shrugged, not really caring.

things. It "Well, I hope I was seeing things, It was his car though-same-license plate, all nines. Anyway, it's late. I'm heading home. If you want to ask him, do it tomorrow."

He hung up, not even considering whether he should cover for McNeil. It wasn't like that guy's marriage to Violet was anything real. He never thought much of Violet anyway; if she wanted the truth, she could have it. Violet gnawed her lower lip raw, unable to stop herself from dialing McNeil's number.

Meanwhile, Victoria was crammed into the back seat of MgNeil's car, practically pinned against the door by his arm. "McNeil, let go of me." The driver was still at the wheel, unfazed by the scene in the back. What the hell did McNeil think he was doing? McNeil's voice was tight with anger, each word forced out between clenched teeth.

"Victoria. Do you have any idea what kind of diseases you could pick up in a place like that?"