The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge

Yvette tried to stop Hawthorne, but Hans stepped in to block her path.

"Miss Yvette, please, let's be reasonable."

Her heels clicked to a halt. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Hans couldn't exactly spill the truth—that Mr. Everhart and Gwyneth were already

married. The couple hadn't made any public announcement, and as an assistant,

he'd sooner lose his job ten times over than leak something like that.

"Use your head," he said, tapping his temple. While Yvette stood there, stunned

and speechless, Hans hurried after Hawthorne.

It took Yvette a few minutes to process what just happened. Then it hit her—

Gwyneth must have seduced Hawthorne. That had to be it. Why else would a

man like Hawthorne keep someone as troublesome as Gwyneth around the

company?

Back at her desk, Gwyneth had barely settled in when Hans came looking for her.

"Ma'am, Mr. Everhart is waiting in the lounge," he murmured, voice so low it was

almost a whisper.

Curious coworkers pricked up their ears, but Hans was too discreet. Gwyneth

stood and followed him out.

Inside the lounge, Hawthorne sat fidgeting with an unlit cigarette, his usual

energy. As soon as

her into his arms.

anyone threaten

off questions so quickly

heard about the accident.

you,

else could

planning to do? She

to kidnap you. Did anything

"Do I look like something happened to

was just messing around. He had me

a cab

"He just left?" Hawthorne's

It

was, the guy

young kid with a flashy sports

pay for damages,

was

if you want to come to the office, you either come with me or

drive you,"

words, her own driving days

bit much? It's not like she couldn't afford to fix

out, his sternness softened by a

of affection.

cars aren't meant for girls, especially

just can't

all, she was a two-time relay world

there to worry

car, I'll get you something electric,

miles an hour."

it: a cartoonish electric car,

with some ridiculous antenna