The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge

Hawthorne walked into the office building and made his way straight to his own office. Hans spotted him and hurried to catch up, assuming something important must have come up-Mr. Everhart had messaged him first thing in the morning, asking for a meeting in his office.

The moment Hans saw the stormy look on Hawthorne's face, he tensed up like a soldier called to attention. After several years working as Mr. Everhart's assistant, Hans could always tell when his boss was in a foul mood. He braced himself, barely daring to breathe, ready for any order.

"Mr. Everhart," he greeted respectfully, waiting for instructions.

"What's everyone been gossiping about lately?" Hawthorne asked, his voice cool.

Hans hesitated for a split second. Nothing ever escaped Hawthorne's notice anyway, so there was no point trying to hide it. He gave a sheepish smile. "It's nothing serious. Miss Yvette's just feeling a bit under pressure, that's all."

Hans knew which things he should get involved in, and which he shouldn't. Calling it gossip was generous-if Yvette weren't so prone to suspicion, the rumor probably wouldn't exist in the first place.

Yesterday afternoon, when Gwyneth didn't show up for work, Yvette made a big deal about it, ranting in the office about how some people thought that just because they were friends with Mr. Everhart's niece, they didn't have to follow company rules. It was an outburst that came out of nowhere-Yvette usually stayed out of HR matters altogether.

Besides, Gwyneth was just a junior character animator in the game department. Her position was so minor that Yvette normally wouldn't even bother to learn her

name.

Anyone with half a brain could see what was really going on-Miss Yvette was just jealous. The rumor mill was spinning with talk that maybe Yvette felt threatened, or maybe Mr. Everhart's affections were shifting elsewhere.

"What business is it of hers?" Hawthorne's brow furrowed at the mention of Yvette.

Now, Hans was honestly confused. Was Mr. Everhart really pretending not to know? Everyone in the company knew about him and Miss Yvette.

"Mr. Everhart, maybe it's just that Miss Yvette isn't thrilled to see you bending the rules for a friend for the first time," Hans said carefully. As Hawthorne's assistant, there was nothing he couldn't say.

Yvette always treated Hans better than most of the staff because she knew how much Hawthorne valued him. But the truth was, Hans-and most people in the company didn't particularly like Yvette. She was always strictly business, forever acting as if she had the company's and Mr. Everhart's best interests at heart. She'd been playing the role of the boss's future wife for ages.

Of course, she'd never be so overbearing in front of Hawthorne himself. And, to be fair, Yvette really was competent at her job-aside from her overbearing attitude, there wasn't much to fault.

Some people grumbled about her, but no one dared speak ill of Yvette in front of Hawthorne.

"Utter nonsense," Hawthorne said, idly toying with the pen in his hand. Then, out of nowhere, he asked, "Do you think I'm getting old?"

Hans blinked, caught off guard by the abrupt change in topic.

"Sorry?"

He immediately regretted the slip. As Mr. Everhart's assistant, he knew better thannoveldrama

to make his boss repeat himself.

Hawthorne tapped his chin and repeated, "I asked, do I seem old to you?"

Hans nearly choked on his own breath. "Of course not!" Who would dare say otherwise if they valued their job?

But would Mr. Everhart really care what people thought of his age?

"Never mind," Hawthorne said, deciding he was only putting Hans in an awkward spot. Hans was only twenty-three, after all-while

Hawthorne himself was third net?

There were some things he didn't

need anyone else to confirm for him; age was what it was.

"Take care of the office gossip. I don't want people running their mouths about

things that don't concern their work."