The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge

Leonie's hands and heart trembled as she called Hawthorne.

The phone barely rang a few times before he answered.

"Uncle "

The moment she spoke, tears streamed down her cheeks. She stammered through her explanation, and only after a while did Hawthorne finally piece together the heart of it.

Gwyneth had hit someone with her car. Someone had taken her, and now both she and the person she hit were missing.

"I understand. I'll take care of it."

He hung up. Though his face remained calm, a sharp pain pricked his heart.

Hawthorne pressed the button on his desk phone, just about to call his assistant in, when the door rattled with a few knocks. Before he could respond, Yvette pushed the door open and strode in.

"Mr. Everhart, what's going on with that Gwyneth? She's eighteen minutes late today."

Yvette was fuming, heels striking the floor with such force it seemed she might crack the marble.

paused for a moment. His finger hovered over the phone's

"Hmm?"

chair, eyes cool and impassive as he looked at

"So Gwyneth's here, then?"

moment, he'd nearly been ready to send men to lock

coming to complain, could read Hawthorne's

your niece's, and it's not really my place to meddle, but since she started, she's hardly put in a

silently, never interrupting, while even

if Yvette set her sights on someone, no matter how competent they were, they'd better start packing. She wasn't the peto be jealous for no reason, and whenever she let someone go, she always had

mind to firing someone, Hawthorne never stopped

into the office and caught the tail end of Yvette's tirade, looking

out to

drive Gwyneth for a while? Why don't

sink. Yvette didn't seem to fealize she was basically complaining about the boss's wife in front of the boss. He was just a personal assistant-what could

take a

was caught off guard, her

for Hawthorne

with Gwyneth herself. But now, with