The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge

Leonie Everhart hunched her shoulders, looking utterly cowed. Ever since she

was little, the person she feared most was her uncle. Right now, she didn't have a shred of courage to stand up to him.

Layne Everhart wolfed down his breakfast and, without so much as a glance at his distressed little sister, made a hasty escape.

Hawthorne Everhart dropped Leonie off at her destination, then drove Gwyneth Langford straight to his own company.

Halfway there, Gwyneth noticed Leonie had already left, so she dropped any pretense. "Just let me off somewhere convenient. I'll make my own way home. You don't have to worry-I won't be bothering your niece again."

It was obvious Hawthorne suspected her of having ulterior motives towards Leonie, or maybe just didn't trust her at all. Gwyneth saw no need to explain herself to someone she'd likely never cross paths with again. Leaving would solve everything.

"Miss Langford, you're mistaken. Walking away doesn't mean nothing ever happened. I'd advise you to behave yourself and not get any funny ideas."

In the past two days, the man had barely said more than fifty words to her; this single sentence felt almost generous.

Gwyneth's eyes flashed with a cold glint. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Hawthorne didn't answer. He focused on driving, letting the silence linger.

Twenty minutes later, the car came to a stop in front of a towering office building downtown.

"We're here. Get out."

His abrupt tone brooked no argument. Gwyneth slid out of the back seat just as a valet hurried over to park the car. The young man's eyes widened at the sight of her standing next to Hawthorne.

"Wait for me at the entrance," Hawthorne instructed, his words clipped. Catching the expression on the valet's face, Gwyneth could already imagine the wave of gossip her entrance would spark.

She followed Hawthorne inside. At the front desk, the young receptionist's jaw nearly hit the floor as she greeted Hawthorne, her eyes darting between him and Gwyneth in disbelief.

Gwyneth had expected Hawthorne to offer some kind of explanation, but he strode straight toward the executive elevator. When she hesitated, he actually stopped, frowned, and snapped, "Keep up." That only made the receptionist stare harder, and Gwyneth caught her in the corner of her eye, phone in hand, probably already texting the news far and wide.

Resigned, Gwyneth stepped into the elevator with him. When they reached the eighteenth floor, the doors slid open, and she was still caught off guard.

"Out."

Cold and curt, his tone cut through her daze, and she realized he was leaving her here. The elevator doors shut, whisking him away without another word.

So, he really had just dumped her here?noveldrama

"Excuse me, are you Miss Langford?" a voice behind her pulled Gwyneth back to reality. She turned to see a sharply dressed young man standing before her— confident, polished, with a gentler expression than Hawthorne's and a warm, pleasant voice.

"Yes, that's me."

Had she stumbled into some kind of handsome-man convention over the past two days? Kieran was

charming in a boyish way, Hawthorne was all commanding maturity-both dangerously

attractive. And now, this man looked every bit the capable professional, definitely not a shareholder, just impeccably dressed.

"Hello, I'm Hans, Mr. Everhart's assistant. He asked me to bring you to HR for onboarding."

Relief washed over Gwyneth. For a moment, she'd thought Hawthorne had just abandoned her, leaving her to wander the halls like a lost soul. Maybe she'd misjudged him—he was the CEO, after all. Surely he wouldn't be that petty.

Hans led her to the design department. Gwyneth had expected jewelry or fashion sketches, but her desk was covered with little figurines and collectibles. Even the computer was decked out in pink-cute to the extreme.

"Did we go to the wrong place?" she wondered aloud.

Other employees glanced over with open curiosity; after all, the CEO's personal assistant was leading her in—it was like the boss himself had come.

"No mistake. Mr. Everhart specifically instructed me to bring you to the game design department. If you have any questions, you can speak to HR or Mr. Everhart himself," Hans explained, his tone gentle and reassuring.

Gwyneth couldn't help but picture Hawthorne's unsmiling face and bit back a sigh. "Alright, thank you."

She ran her fingers over the adorable figurines, her inner child delighted. Still, the pink computer made her a bit self-conscious-she was twenty-one, not some teenager.

She'd assumed this was a leftover workstation, but some of the items were still unopened.

Hans, still standing nearby, seemed

to read her thoughts with ease. "Don't worry, Miss Langford. The CEO personally instructed

purchasing to set this up for you this moming. Everything's brand new. Some accessories are still on their way, so you'll have to unbox and arrange the rest yourself later."

She was speechless. Everything was new-and bought just for her.

Not that she was picky about using other people's things at work, but it was a nice touch.

"Thank you," she said again.

As she took her seat at her new desk, she felt the envious stares of her coworkers. At a more distant workstation, a group had already started to whisper.

"Who is she, anyway? Hans brought her in himself-she must be Mr. Everhart's relative."

"No way. Mr. Everhart can't stand nepotism. If you don't have what it takes, you don't last here."

"Then who is she? Could she be Mr. Everhart's girlfriend?"

Someone nudged the last speaker with an elbow. "Don't say that out loud! If Miss Yvette hears, we'll all get docked pay. Remember the last person who gossiped about M Everhart's private life? Miss Yvette made sure they didn't last a single day."