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.

finger hovered over the phone's keypad as he shifted his

"Hmm?"

eyes cool and impassive

"So Gwyneth's here, then?"

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

coming to complain,

but since she started, she's hardly put in a proper day's work. Every department's fed

it, Yvette's personal feelings bled into her words. Hawthorne listened silently, never interrupting, while even the secretary nearby felt a cold sweat

packing. She

her mind to firing someone, Hawthorne never

the office and caught the tail end of Yvette's

out to

don't you tell Mr. Everhart what

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

risen from his seat. Yvette was

for Hawthorne

her the green light to deal with Gwyneth herself. But now, with Hawthorne personally