The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge novel Chapter 626

Gwyneth was completely absorbed in her reading when her phone buzzed with a new message. Her first thought was that it might be Connor—she dreaded the idea, so she didn’t dare check it right away.

Several seconds passed before she finally, almost reluctantly, fished out her phone. It turned out the message was from Hawthorne.

“There’s an auction in Greenvale tomorrow. I need you to attend for me.”

Her curiosity was instantly piqued.

An auction usually meant expensive jewelry or antiques.

She’d wandered through his villa several times, and aside from a few valuable artifacts, she hadn’t noticed any particular obsession on his part for collecting things.

“Is it a gift for someone?” she replied, thinking that was the only reasonable explanation.

He sent back a brief, indifferent “Yeah.”

Gwyneth agreed right away. After all, she’d been tagging along with him like a freeloader for so long; it felt good to finally do something helpful.

They chatted for a while longer, until he suddenly asked, “It’s late, why aren’t you asleep yet?”

She hesitated, just about to reply, when another message popped up: “Get some rest. Goodnight.”

For some reason, Gwyneth felt a little let down. It took her several minutes before she texted back a simple, “Okay.”

Meanwhile, Hawthorne exited the chat and stared at the day’s news footage.

There was a three-minute segment, and for nearly half of it, the camera was fixed on a man and a woman’s faces.

His gaze sharpened, almost slicing through the screen, as the shot froze on the pair holding hands.

So, this was why Gwyneth hadn’t come to France with him—she’d made plans with another man.

He couldn’t quite explain the surge of jealousy rising inside him. Right now, he had half a mind to jump on a flight home and demand an explanation.

But in the end, he restrained himself. Women were trouble when they had too much free time, and men—like flies—never missed a chance to hover around a pretty face.

Gwyneth surveyed the beautiful presentation and appetizing food, almost reluctant to ruin the arrangement.

But time was running short. Hawthorne had said to arrive at eight; the auction would start at nine. Now, she had barely half an hour left.

She quickly finished her meal, downed her milk in one go, and found Hans already waiting at the door.

“Ma’am, Mr. Everhart asked me to drive you.”

The butler watched Gwyneth walk out into the courtyard, heard Hans’s words, and quietly set his phone aside, turning to busy himself elsewhere.

With Hans accompanying her, Gwyneth had no trouble getting into the auction—she was even welcomed by staff and personally guided inside.