The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge novel Chapter 696

It was the first time Patti Yale truly grasped just how terrifying Hawthorne could be.

She never imagined that the plan she and James had put together—so seamless, so well thought-out—could be seen through in an instant. From the very beginning, Hawthorne had set a trap for her, one so deep and elaborate that she was only now realizing how completely she’d been ensnared.

Her hands trembling, Patti tried to stand, but her legs gave out almost immediately and she crumpled right back to the floor. No matter how she willed them, her knees shook uncontrollably.

Hawthorne stood a few feet away, his expression unreadable, eyes sharp as glass. That cold, razor-edged stare would haunt her for a long time.

When she first started dealing with Hawthorne, Patti had scoffed at the rumors about him. People called him brilliant and unflappable, a once-in-a-generation business prodigy. But wasn’t he just another man, ultimately brought to his knees by her charm?

That was before she’d felt his hand around her throat, before she’d tasted the panic of being utterly powerless. Only then did Patti realize she had crossed someone she should never have provoked.

And in that moment, she also understood that she had missed her one chance at someone truly extraordinary—someone she’d never meet again, not in this lifetime.

But it was Hawthorne’s ruthless, vengeful streak—his utter disregard for past affection—that sent chills through her every time she thought about it.

***

Hawthorne left the apartment just as a video from Leonie appeared on his phone—a clip of Gwyneth.

He settled into the back seat of his car, a cigarette balanced between two fingers. The window was cracked open, letting in the damp night air and carrying the faint glow of his cigarette ember. Smoke curled in the confined space, filling it with its bitter scent. Lost in thought, Hawthorne watched the video over and over, the rest of the world seemingly faded away.

It had been nearly two weeks since he’d last seen his little dove.

Once all of this was over, he promised himself he’d make it up to her. James had always been his fiercest rival in Greenvale; for years, neither man had managed to best the other. On the surface, things remained civil—they’d kept to their own sides, never crossing the line.

But this time was different. James had made the first move, encroaching on his territory. This, Hawthorne couldn’t forgive.

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