The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge

Gwyneth's first instinct was to refuse, but before she could get a word out, Leonie cheerfully agreed on her behalf.

"You said that Bill Crawford had blacklisted you, right? Don't worry, with the Everhart family backing you, there's no way he can mess with you here."

Leonie had never tolerated men who bullied women. She'd seen firsthand the sorry state of the guy who'd tricked her into that hiking trip-after her uncle was done lecturing him, he'd looked thoroughly chastised.

But Leonie didn't feel sorry for him. If she hadn't happened to run into Gwyneth that day, goodness knows what might have happened.

Gwyneth understood that being out of work didn't really bother her; she just didn't want Bill Crawford hounding her everywhere she went. The way he'd been obsessively searching for her made her worry that one day he'd dig up her family background.

Men like Bill were petty and vindictive. It wasn't about love he just couldn't stand losing.

Layne had overheard the conversation.

"Bill Crawford?"

In their social circle, the second-generation heirs who lived off their families looked down on those who worked hard, while the ambitious ones found the idle ones insufferable.

Bottom line, if you didn't share the same interests, you just didn't mix. Layne wasn't fond of Bill Crawford's type either.

There was no real animosity between them, though. In their world, unless there was some mutual benefit, people with different hobbies generally just kept out of each other's way.

"That's right. Gwyn's his ex-girlfriend. The guy's got no character-Gwyn realized it and broke things off, but he just wouldn't let go. He's even tried to ruin her career. Come on, Layne, help Gwyn out, will you?" Leonie pleaded, her tone sweet and coaxing. Layne had always doted on his little sister.

"Of course. If you don't have any experience in jewelry design, that's fine-you can take your time and learn. No rush."

Layne's easy smile was disarming, his handsome features more reminiscent of the friendly boy next door than some intimidating heir.

As Gwyneth looked at his gentle face, she couldn't help but think of Max. He'd been the brightest spot in her childhood, though it had been years since they'd last seen each other. She wondered where he was now.

"Thank you," Gwyneth replied softly, just as a surprised voice came from the hallway.

"Young Master. Sir, Young Master's here."

Hawthorne strolled in, catching Mr. and Mrs. Everhart off guard. Surprise flickered in their eyes.noveldrama

“I just finished a meeting nearby and thought, since my brother and sister-in-law

live so close, I'd drop in and mooch a meal," he said casually.

Outside, the rain was still coming down, the sky gray and heavy.

Hawthorne's hand gripped the umbrella handle, his fingers long and elegant. He gave the umbrella a slight shake to rid it of raindrops, and a housekeeper hurried over to take it.

Gwyneth turned just as their eyes met.

She wasn't sure why, but as someone who was used to being around handsome

men, Gwyneth found her heart skip a beat under Hawthorne's gaze.

He was dressed in his usual classic black suit, his brows sharp and severe, his dark eyes brooding and intense-every bit as stormy as the clouds outside.

He walked in with calm, sure steps, his features becoming clearer the closer he got.

"Come on, you don't need an excuse

to eat at home. Don't say you're 'mooching at your brother and sister-in-law's place," Mrs. Everhart scolded, though her tone was tinged with delight. Both she and MD Everhart acted as if his visit were some extraordinary honór, even

though he was family.

Leonie's smile froze; surprise flickered in her eyes, edged with a hint of nervousness. "Uncle?"

He never came home for lunch in broad daylight. Even seeing him once a month was rare. That he'd had time to pick her up this morning was already a surprise-she hadn't expected to see him again at noon.

It really was...

A rare occasion.

So why did Leonie suddenly feel like crying? She instinctively glanced at Gwyneth.

Sure enough-

Her uncle's sharp instincts and vigilance were legendary. He probably hadn't come for anyone but Gwyneth.

Outside, the sky stayed dark and heavy, but inside the foyer the lights blazed bright, chasing away every shadow.