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.

a moment. His finger hovered over the phone's keypad

"Hmm?"

back in his leather chair, eyes cool and impassive as he looked at

"So Gwyneth's here, then?"

she was safe. For a moment, he'd nearly been ready to send

when coming to

not really my place to meddle, but since she started, she's hardly put in a proper day's work. Every department's fed up with her, and her constant absences are

personal feelings bled into her words. Hawthorne listened silently, never interrupting, while even

packing. She wasn't

mind to

just stepped into the office and caught the tail

out to

for a while? Why don't you tell Mr.

Yvette didn't seem to fealize she was basically complaining about the boss's wife in

take

had already risen from his seat. Yvette was caught

for Hawthorne

give her the green light to deal with Gwyneth herself. But now, with Hawthorne personally heading to the gaming department-just for a newcomer-it was