The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge

Chapter 518

Mr. Everhart relinquished his seat at the head of the table to Hawthorne, who took

it without the slightest fuss, as if this was how things had always been.

Gwyneth couldn't help but whisper to Leonie, "Did your uncle save your entire family's life or something?"

By age and seniority, Hawthorne should never outrank Mr. Everhart, yet the Everharts treated him with an almost reverential respect. It was baffling.

Leonie's face fell, her expression bleak.

"Pretty much. I told you before the only reason the Everhart family business has survived this long is because of my uncle. My dad hates business; he's content to live off the house our grandfather left and his shares in the company. The family firm is all on my uncle's shoulders."

Gwyneth fell silent. No wonder this man commanded so much authority.

Layne, who'd been holding court just moments ago, suddenly went quiet and stared down at his plate, eating in silence.

The housekeeper brought out a place setting for Hawthorne. Gwyneth found her gaze drifting to his hands-elegant, cool, and almost translucent in the dining room light-then followed the line of his wrist up to his sharply defined Adam's apple.

Almost as if on cue, Hawthorne's throat bobbed with a swallow. His eyes met Gwyneth's across the table, sharp and unexpectedly direct.

her head and shoveling a mouthful of food as if she could hide behind it. Her ears flushed

were you all talking about? Sounded

cut through the silence, an unusual move for someone

before fixing their attention on their son. Mrs. Everhart

daring to fudge the truth. "Her boyfriend's made it impossible for her to find a job in Greenvale, so Leonie was asking if I could help

mention it, but the pressure from

a piece of braised pork with his fork, though he didn't eat

Layne's words, his brow furrowing slightly. "How old is Miss Langford? Do her parents

nearly choked on her water, trying to

the urge to cough, while Leonie looked

Mr. and Mrs. Everhart and Layne all stared at

rising in the

today? Hawthorne, usually

vel

to everything, was suddenly interrogating a girl be barely knew, and with

pale, then flushed pink

together. We dated for