The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge

"Don't get the wrong idea. Holding your hand doesn't feel any different to me than holding Leonie's."

Gwyneth managed a soft "oh," but her ears burned despite herself.

She and Hawthorne slid into the car her grandfather had sent. Outside, the city was coming alive with evening lights. Unlike the southern sprawl of Greenvale, Starfall City was a true metropolis; at night, the skyscrapers turned into glittering giants, their lights cutting through the darkness and turning midnight into something close to day.

As they left the city center for the suburbs, Hawthorne expected the road to dip into darkness, but the main avenue to the old house was lined with bright lamps. Strings of lights hung from the trees, so that from a distance, it felt as if they were driving into a sea of stars. The drive took just over half an hour.

When the car finally stopped at the gates, Gwyneth stepped into the yard, and childhood memories came flooding back.

She hadn't visited her great-grandfather's house in years-not since she went abroad. Since then, all their conversations had been over video calls, and it never felt the same.

"She's home! The young miss is home!"

A housekeeper opened the door to greet Gwyneth. The old mansion was decked out with festive streamers and garlands, bathed in warm light. Word had spread that the eldest sister was back; Celia and Chris, her younger siblings, hurried out at the commotion.

"Gwyn!"

Celia was the first to rush over, throwing her arms around Gwyneth in a tight embrace.

Chris followed, quieter and more reserved, much like their father. Even seeing the sister who had loved him since childhood, he held his emotions in check. Still, nothing could hide the happiness on his face.

Celia was always the more open-hearted one. She clung to Gwyneth, wiping her eyes. "You're always gone for so long. Can't you stay this time? I missed you so much—"

When their mother was busy with work, it was Gwyneth, still a child herself, who took care of her little brother and sister, always patient and attentive. Truth be told, Chris and Celia had been raised more by their big sister than by their mother; they had grown up held in Gwyneth's arms.

"I missed you, too," Gwyneth said, cupping Celia's face, her voice full of gentle affection.

Standing to one side, Hawthorne

suddenly understood why his

usually shy niece had latched onto Gwyneth so quickly. She radiated a warm, nurturing energy that Simply made people feel safe.

Gwyneth had that rare quality-standing quietly in the corner, she still managed to draw everyone's attention, making them want to be near her.noveldrama

That was exactly how Hawthorne had felt the first time they met. Even with six

years between them, her quiet magnetism had pulled him in before he realized what was happening.

Just like with Leonie Everhart. Was it

just about keeping Leonie safe, or was there something deeper, something he didn't want to name? At his age, it was ridiculous to still be second-guessing his own feelings.

He'd never been one to overthink things. If his heart wanted something, he went after it.

"So why do you always leave, Gwyn?" Celia's voice was still that of the little girl who never clung to their mother but never wanted to let go of her big sister.

When Gwyneth left for school, Celia would cry herself hoarse until her sister came home. No one could console her. Only after Gwyneth went abroad did she slowly grow out of it.

Victoria had always worried that something was wrong with Celia. Thankfully, Chris had managed a bit better.

"All right, you two," Victoria said, beaming at all three of her children gathered at last. "Are you planning to keep your sister standing in the hallway all night?"

Hawthorne didn't miss a beat-he stepped forward and presented the gifts he'd brought, already wrapped and ready.