The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge

Gwyneth hurried out, practically darting from the room.

"Wait-Miss Langford!"

Hans called after her and followed in her wake.

It wasn't until Gwyneth had completely disappeared from view that Hawthorne finally left the lounge himself.

Back at her desk, Gwyneth opened her computer and started waiting for her character models to render. She idly scrolled through her phone, noticing several messages from Hawthorne-reminders and advice that, while a bit overprotective, were clearly sent with care. She smiled and took them to heart.

Suddenly, another notification popped up-this time from a number she didn't recognize. The sender introduced himself:

"This is Connor."

"Hi. Did you take the car to the garage? How much is the estimate?"

After the brief greeting, Connor immediately started browsing her Instagram, curious to see what kind of person she was. But apart from a cartoon avatar and a photo of an old mountain landscape as her header, there wasn't a single personal detail to be found.

He was honestly disappointed. For someone as stunning as Gwyneth, he'd expected at least a few selfies or some artsy snapshots of her daily life. Yet she was so low-key, she'd left absolutely nothing.

do you do for

replied without

million, the least she could do was be polite. Incidents like this could go either

you drove today, you seem

a kid and occasionally seeing her uncles compete, she'd never really been interested in

"When?"

entirely sure

getting at. In

be easier to talk

bill for the damage once the garage gave their

of this to Hawthorne. It felt like such a

trouble him

free

a day she couldn't reasonably refuse. After a moment, Gwyneth replied,

pleased. "Great.

need," she shot back. "Just send me the

in getting closer to Connor or, for that matter, to any man

settled into the role of a married