The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge

When Hawthorne stepped inside, Yvette's grandfather was sipping his tea. The moment he saw Hawthorne, he stood up with a broad, genuine smile lighting up his face.

"Hawthorne, you're here-please, have a seat!"

Hans stepped forward, presenting the gift he'd brought. Yvette's grandfather quickly waved for a servant to take it. As the servant retreated toward the door, Yvette quietly called her over.

"Let me see that."

She was curious about what Hawthorne had chosen for her grandfather; it would show how much he valued her.

But when she unwrapped the fancy packaging, all she found was a box of old- fashioned health supplements-something like dried ginseng. Disappointment washed over her.

The servant looked uncertain, caught between staying and leaving. "Is there a problem, Miss?"

Yvette waved her off, clearly annoyed. "No, take it away."

Instead of heading to the sitting room, she slipped aside, hiding just out of sight to eavesdrop on the conversation between her grandfather and Hawthorne.

"You look well, sir," Hawthorne said, opening with a polite, if predictable, remark. Yvette's grandfather chuckled warmly. "I'm holding up. Might just make it to a hundred at this rate. You're a busy man-it's not easy getting you to visit."

He wasn't just being polite. In truth, it had been ages since he'd last seen Hawthorne. This was a chance to catch up, but he was old enough to know that topics in common with young people were getting scarce.

he was far from confident. A man as accomplished as Hawthorne was the target of every eligible

with one foot in the grave, he couldn't ignore his granddaughter's

only test the waters. If Hawthorne showed no interest, he'd let the

all," Hawthorne

into his chair and accepting a cup of tea. The aroma of food drifted in from

invitation to

no intention of getting further tangled with Yvette's family. Whatever obligations he owed the older generation,

repaid them through

the end, and as

supposed he'd visit now and

coming. Your tea's excellent; I might have

at him in shock, his eyes searching Hawthorne's face

from

he

tried to clarify, hesitantly, "You

"My wife. I recently

oblivious listener would realize

back any longer. She

"Hawthorne, what's that supposed