The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge novel Chapter 666

“Nothing, really.”

Shifting uneasily in his arms, Gwyneth pretended to check the time on her phone.

“If I don’t get up now, I’ll be late for work. I still have a good two weeks left to make myself useful…”

Hawthorne knew exactly what she was thinking. Once she made up her mind, no one could talk her out of it. Neither of them had taken any precautions. Once their little one arrived, going back to work would be out of the question.

It wasn’t that Hawthorne was chauvinistic—he just felt Gwyneth wasn’t cut out for the cutthroat corporate world.

Otherwise, Yvette wouldn’t have managed to scheme against her more than once. She was his wife, and he couldn’t stand to see anyone push her around.

If it weren’t for the old friendship between the Everhart family and Yvette’s grandfather, Yvette would have been fired long ago—or even blacklisted in the entire industry, not just transferred out of the company.

Even after the transfer, the office politics and subtle discrimination followed Yvette wherever she went. There was no hope of making a comeback.

Yvette was shrewd enough to know that crossing Hawthorne meant she could never work anywhere else; nobody would dare hire her.

Her career was over for good.

Hawthorne watched as Gwyneth sat at her vanity, fixing her hair and makeup. In the morning sunlight, her skin seemed almost luminous.

He couldn’t help but feel lucky that he’d found her before anyone else realized just how beautiful she was. A few years from now, he doubted it would have been so easy.

Gwyneth tied her hair back in a ponytail and slipped into her work clothes, only to notice Hawthorne watching her intently. She gave him a questioning look.

“What are you staring at?”

Hawthorne answered in his usual, calm tone. “You look beautiful.”

A faint blush colored Gwyneth’s cheeks. With a magician’s flair, she produced a small, elegant box from behind her back and handed it to him.

“What’s this?”

A gift, from her?

Some people were simply gifted by fate. Gwyneth’s skills would take a master craftsman forty years to acquire, and here she was, barely in her twenties, already this talented.

Considering her background, it hardly seemed fair—sometimes fortune poured all its blessings onto one person, and sometimes one person bore all the world’s misfortunes.

Gwyneth was delighted to discover they shared a common interest. She was fascinated by classical art and culture, often losing herself in old manuscripts and restoration techniques.

It set her apart from most people her age, and as a result, she didn’t have many friends.

Hawthorne tucked the seal away, along with the stamped paper bearing his name.

“So, when can you take me to see your restoration work?”

At the mention of art restoration, Gwyneth’s whole face lit up.

Hawthorne affectionately tapped her nose.