The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge

Chapter 510

Gwyneth Langford woke early that morning and made herself a quick breakfast— two fried eggs and a glass of milk. She'd just taken a bite of toast when the

doorbell rang.

She went to answer it, surprised to find her landlady standing on the doorstep.

Letting her in, Gwyneth tried to figure out what this was about. Her lease hadn't expired; she'd paid all her bills on time. Why show up so suddenly?

"Miss Langford, I'm terribly sorry, but my son recently got engaged and they need a place to live, so we won't be able to renew the lease. I'll refund you the rest of your rent, of course."

The landlady looked suitably apologetic, but Gwyneth couldn't shake the feeling that this was all a little too convenient. She'd been job hunting for weeks with no luck, and now, suddenly, she was being kicked out? There was only one person she could think of behind this-Bill Crawford.

"Alright," Gwyneth said briskly, holding out her phone for the landlady to scan and refund the remaining rent.

"I'm sorry, Miss Langford, but could you possibly move out today?" the landlady pressed. Now that the money was transferred, she didn't bother to hide her impatience. Gwyneth doubted this had anything to do with her son needing a place; more likely, she just wanted to get another tenant in as soon as possible.

Gwyneth didn't argue. "No problem."

the landlady out, closed the door, and finished her simple breakfast. Then she packed

hour later, Gwyneth was at the Greenvale Grand Hotel, sliding a sleek black card across the reception desk. The clerk stared, wide-eyed,

like to book ten nights,"

that anyone with a card like this was no

smiled politely. "No need for anything extravagant.

wasn't her style. The receptionist looked a little disappointed, but quickly

ten nights—a small fortune for most people,

weatherproof jacket, lightweight trekking poles, and a one-person tent. If she couldn't

go

sunrise, drink from cold springs, and breathe in the crisp,

his reach could extend into the Langford family's hotels in Greenvale. The Langford Group guarded their clients' privacy fiercely-unless her own mother demanded it, no one

thing-and honestly, she'd never thought much of him anyway. Even the spoiled sons of nouveau riche families in Starfall

the night at the hotel, then left at three

base of Mount Wyvernrest. With a lantern in hand and her tent

shoulder, she

the years, so many hikers had climbed up in the pre- dawn hours that

Gwyneth reached a scenic overlook. The night wind whipped around her,