The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge novel Chapter 954

"You think you have a choice? The higher-ups cleared this visit, so you're going. You have a set time limit, and when it's up, you bring your ass straight back here. Stop stalling before I write you up for insubordination!"

Violet sneered inwardly. She was serving a life sentence without the possibility of parole. She was destined to rot in this concrete hellhole until the day she died. There was nothing left to fear.

This was the textbook definition of despair. Every single day was a carbon copy of the last, an endless cycle of grueling labor stretching into oblivion. The greatest tragedy wasn't the loss of freedom—it was existing as a walking corpse.

With shackles biting into her ankles, the heavy steel door clanked open. The guard hauled her forward, the grinding drag of her chains echoing ominously down the cavernous corridor. She shuffled step by agonizing step toward the visitation booth.

A thick iron grate separated her from the outside world. A broad-shouldered man sat on the other side. The harsh backlight obscured his face, but for a split second, her pulse spiked. His silhouette bore a striking resemblance to McNeil.

But as she drew closer, the illusion shattered. She had never seen this man before in her life. She racked her aging brain—she was nearing fifty now, how could she possibly know this twenty-something kid? She didn't care who he belonged to; she was sick of interacting with the living.

If she had one final wish before she died, it would be to see McNeil one last time, just to ask if he had ever loved her, even for a single day.

Violet took the seat across from Connor, her expression stony as she studied his features. There was something intensely familiar about his eyes, a ghost of someone she once knew, but she couldn't place it.

After a long, suffocating silence, she finally spoke. "Who are you? I don't know you. What do you want? Whatever you're here to ask, save your breath. I'm not telling you anything."

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