The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge

Hawthorne pinned her gently under the covers. "I'm going to make you some lunch. After you eat, I'll have to head out. Be good these next few days- especially don't get into any trouble with Leonie. I'll call you through video chat."

He shot her a warning look, and Gwyneth instinctively shrank her head back, pulling the blanket up to her nose so only her wide, shining eyes peeked out.

The air still carried Hawthorne's distinct scent. Watching him close the door softly behind him, Gwyneth felt a warm glow settle in her chest.

Her stomach throbbed with a dull ache, and before Hawthorne could come back and check on her, she curled up, clutching her abdomen. The pain, though gentle, lulled her into an unplanned nap.

By the time the housekeeper knocked at her door, it was already late afternoon.

"Ma'am, sir made you a whole table of food. When you wake up, please remember to eat."

Before Gwyneth could respond, her phone buzzed-Hawthorne was calling.

"Are you up yet?"

She murmured a soft "mm-hmm," cheeks turning pink as she remembered her inconveniently timed period.

"Eat a good meal."

His voice sounded especially caring through the receiver.

"I will."

Hawthorne's reminders had the comforting tone of an adult fussing over a child.

Gwyneth secretly enjoyed it.

"What kind of gift do you want? I'll bring you something back."

He added, "There's an auction after the conference. You girls all like perfume, handbags, and jewelry. Is there anything you want?"

Gwyneth thought seriously about it. Truthfully, there wasn't anything she needed or even particularly desired. Anything she could possibly want, the Langford family could provide with barely a second thought.

"Or maybe you want one of those collectible figurines?" he suggested, frowning at the idea.

He could never quite understand the appeal of those odd little things.

But Gwyneth had already received two: one from Hawthorne himself-which she kept and the other, matching with Leonie, which they both wore as quirky charms.

Assuming he was teasing her, Gwyneth hurried to protest, "No, really, I don't need anything. Just come home early, that's all I want."

Hawthorne was silent for a moment. "Alright."

They chatted for a few more minutes before hanging up.

When Gwyneth went downstairs, the dining room was filled with the comforting aroma of freshly

prepared food, but there wasn'tnet

trace of seafood-her usual favorite. Hawthorne always made sure there was seafood for her.

"Sir said you're not feeling well these days, so no cold-natured foods," the housekeeper explained. “He made lamb, beef, and a nourishing broth to help your recovery. This way, please."

The maid lifted the lid on a pot of chicken soup. Most of the fat had been skimmed off, leaving a clear, golden broth dotted with colorful vegetables-healthy and undeniably appetizing.noveldrama

Gwyneth called Leonie, and as soon as Leonie heard that Hawthorne was gone, she finally dared to have the driver bring her over.

"Uncle Hawthorne really left?" Leonie asked, hand to her chest in mock terror.

"He's gone. So, what's going on with you and Ethan?" Gwyneth asked, concern in her voice. She worried that Ethan might have given Leonie a hard time.

"What do you think? There's nothing between us. But he just can't seem to believe that I'm actually Leonie. Honestly, Auntie, I've never seen a guy cry just because a girl wasn't

interested in him."

Gwyneth blinked. "Cry? Seriously?"

Leonie didn't want to dwell on it, especially since she was afraid to go home in

case Ethan tattled on her.

“He even asked me why I'm Leonie. What a weirdo."

Gwyneth quietly ate her meal while

Leonie practically inhaled hers.

Gwyneth couldn't help but envy Leonie's healthy appetite. In families like hers, nobody cared how much she ate or whether she stayed slim-there were no restrictions on her behavior. Families that tried to control every detail of a girl's manner and eating habits were truly rare.