The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge

Chapter 560

These past few days, Hawthorne had been spending a lot of time with Gwyneth. She wasn't much of a talker, but when she did speak, she rarely stopped once she started.

After that phone call and boarding the plane, however, Gwyneth fell completely silent. She sat there quietly, as still and beautiful as a marble statue.

Hawthorne kept her company, occasionally searching for the right words to comfort her. Yet each time he was about to speak, the words caught in his throat and never made it out.

The Everhart family had built their legacy over a century, through the sweat and toil of generations. Now, all of that was a hair's breadth away from ruin at the hands of the Langfords.

Gwyneth was McNeil's daughter, and today she was on her way to see the Langford family's ailing patriarch. Given the bitter history between their families, Hawthorne supposed he should've been glad.

After all, McNeil was Thorpe's grandson. If Thorpe hadn't started everything, there would be no McNeil-and the Everharts wouldn't have nearly been wiped out a

few years ago.

Gwyneth sat in silence, occasionally wiping away a tear with the back of her hand when she thought no one was looking.

Her great-grandfather had always been good to her, to Celia, to Chris. She still remembered the childhood visits to his house, running wild with her cousins. There was one time she'd knocked over his antique vase. The porcelain had shattered across the floor and even the housekeepers looked stricken at the sight.

overheard the staff say how much he loved that vase, how he polished

over her great-grandmother's heart. The vase

and told the staff to clean it up. No anger,

expert, but she never saw the vase again. Some of the staff said they'd seen him

climbed higher, her thoughts scattered

it all,

her anchored:

novi

up years of her own

health and long

was trouble her family-her father might never wake again, her mother was heartbroken because of her. What good had she brought anyone? Sometimes it felt like

life could buy her family's health, she'd do it.

father opening his eyes again, she'd do

She was useless, worthless.

the deeper she sank into guilt and self-reproach. Sadness pressed in

until we land. Rest your head on me and