The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge

Chapter 680

Using the transaction logs from Gwyneth's phone, Hawthorne finally managed to track down the restaurant where her friends had gathered for dinner.

By the time he arrived, the group was already several drinks in. When they saw Hawthorne walk in, a few of them blinked, half-convinced the alcohol was making them see things.

But when it was clear Mr. Everhart himself had shown up, someone quickly

nudged Gwyneth, who was slumped over the table, her head resting on her arms.

"Gwyn, Mr. Everhart's here to pick you up."

Gwyneth seemed to catch the sound "Everhar" and lifted her head on instinct. But the face she saw wasn't Hawthorne's-it was McNeil's.

"Daddy, I'm sorry... Mommy's so sad, please don't leave her for Violet, Daddy..."

She sounded like a little girl again-six years old all over, watching her father come to take her to Violet's house on Winding Peak Lane. Her mother stood behind her, stiff as a puppet, while Gwyneth, annoyed, just wanted to leave with her father.

Hawthorne slid an arm around the drunken woman, frowning as he noticed her flushed cheeks and the way she mumbled incoherently.

"Mrs. Everhart's had too much to drink, Mr. Everhart. You should take her home," someone offered.

The sight of Hawthorne sobered up more than a few in the group. Gwyneth could be wild, but none of them could match Hawthorne's intimidating composure. They were all a little wary of the young CEO.

He scooped Gwyneth up in his arms and carried her toward the exit. Judging by her state, she'd had far more than a single bottle-how much had she really drunk?

he carried her, but the only word Hawthorne

she wasn't thinking

Hawthorne's phone buzzed with a call from Patti

too much

was loud on Patti's end. Hawthorne glanced down at the woman in his arms and answered, "Just text me

to run out and buy a bottle of iced

knitted,

soothed, watching her closely. When they arrived, he took her straight upstairs, refusing to leave her side for even a second. "Go pick up Miss

never seen Gwyneth this drunk before and had no intention of letting her out of his

her down with a warm towel

care and fuss seemed to help, and Gwyneth sobered up

asked, blinking at Hawthorne, half-convinced she

"How much

did you

drink?"

scolded gently

her flushed

Benet

if you're celebrating, there's no need to

in alcohol. Don't you know how bad it

brushed his hand

do you love me? Or-no-did