The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge

Chapter 523

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."

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 instructed, his words clipped. Catching the expression on the valet's face, Gwyneth could already

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

but he strode straight toward the executive elevator. When she hesitated, he actually stopped, frowned, and snapped, "Keep up." That only made the

with him. When they reached the eighteenth floor, the doors slid

"Out."

through her daze, and she realized he was leaving her here. The elevator doors shut,

really had just dumped

behind her pulled Gwyneth back to reality. She turned to see a sharply dressed

"Yes, that's me."

handsome-man convention over

Hawthorne was

looked every bit the capable professional, definitely not a shareholder,

Mr. Everhart's assistant. He asked me to bring you

halls like a lost soul. Maybe she'd misjudged him—he

or fashion sketches, but her desk was covered with little figurines and collectibles. Even the computer was

the wrong place?"

personal

me to bring you to the game design department. If you have any questions, you can speak to HR or Mr.

help but picture Hawthorne's unsmiling face and bit back a