The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge

Chapter 546

Gwyneth Langford wasn't naïve or clueless; she knew perfectly well that yesterday, Yvette had tried and failed to pick a fight with her, and today, she'd simply found a new excuse.

What could possibly be wrong with the concept art? Gwyneth would have preferred to avoid Yvette altogether, but since Yvette insisted, she had no choice

but to go.

The door to Yvette's office was wide open. Yvette sat at her desk, her expression grave as she stared at her computer, as if she were wrestling with some unsolvable problem.

Even though Gwyneth knew Yvette was up to no good, she still knocked politely. She waited until Yvette's low, clipped voice called, "Come in," before stepping inside.

To her surprise, Yvette wasn't alone. Another girl was there-short, fashionably cut red hair, dressed with a quirky flair. Her eyes were rimmed with red; it was clear she'd been crying.

"Miss Yvette."

What fresh drama was this?

Gwyneth had already steeled herself. No matter what ridiculous hurdle Yvette threw at her, she'd handle it head-on.

"Miss Langford, this is Lola from our gaming division. You're sitting at her old desk, as it happens. To keep things fair, I've asked you both here to talk face to face. Lola, if you have something to say, don't be afraid."

to be afraid. Did Yvette really

could utter a word, Yvette jumped in, her voice righteous

drafts-well, I won't say who, I don't want to get anyone

confused than ever.

folded her arms, her face set in

you plagiarized her character designs. Perhaps you're unaware, but when our artists leave the company, they retain the rights to their own work. We don't reuse a

got hold of these drafts, but our company has zero tolerance for plagiarism. I think you know what you need to do next, without

a bit lost at

her third day at the company, Yvette had dragged in a former

"Fine. I understand."

been the last time. She simply turned and headed for the

Gwyneth had truly

even bother to defend herself. The confrontation she'd

shot a nervous glance at

I supposed

dull throb at her temple. What was she

more than

called for

things