The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge

"Mr. Kaufman, is that her? And the man next to her-is that her husband? Don't tell me you've fallen for a married woman?"

Laird had spent the entire night worrying about Connor, only for him to turn up perfectly fine the next morning, dragging Laird out with the excuse of needing to shop for something important. Laird had expected them to be hunting for some rare treasure, but as it turned out, every item on Connor's list was related to painting.

Connor shot Laird a cold glance. "Mind your own business."

Truth was, Connor's plan had been to find something that might please Gwyneth. When pursuing a woman, you had to play to her interests. Jewelry, designer bags judging by Gwyneth's style, her car, and that outfit alone, which looked expensive enough to buy the average person a house, Connor guessed ordinary gifts wouldn't cut it. In Greenvale, folks might not recognize much, but anyone could spot handmade embroidery at a glance.

Since Gwyneth was an artist, something related to painting seemed like a safe bet. But before Connor could make his move, someone else swooped in and bought what he'd been eyeing. If he wasn't mistaken, the man with her must be the "husband" Gwyneth had mentioned. Yet, apart from some occasional conversation, there didn't seem to be much between them.

Laird couldn't help but mutter under his breath, "Can't you ever fall for someone single? Why do you always set your sights on unavailable women?"

Connor leveled him with another frosty look. "If you don't want to sit here, don't let the door hit you on the way out."

Laird promptly shut up.

Connor stayed quiet as well, merely observing Gwyneth and the man beside her. It was clear-anything Gwyneth was interested in today, that man was going to buy for her. In that case, nothing Connor purchased would mean a thing to her.

"I don't know," Laird whispered after a while, "that guy doesn't really look like her husband."

Connor perked up-finally, Laird said something that made sense. He replied, his tone cool but measured, "Of course he's not her husband. Look at her—she's obviously from some wealthy family. Her relatives probably just told her to say she's married to keep guys from bothering her."

Connor had never believed for a second that Gwyneth was actually married.

"And now, our final item of the night," the auctioneer announced.

He presented a men's silk jacket, entirely handmade, with a subtle pattern that appeared only when the light caught it just right.

The piece caught Gwyneth's eye. Connor didn't care much for clothes, but Gwyneth was watching Hans with rare intent.

"I want that," she said quietly.

Hawthorne had showered her with gifts, but she'd never given him anything truly special.

Hans opened his mouth to reply, "Sure-" but Gwyneth cut him off.noveldrama

"I'll buy it myself. No need to use Hawthorne's money."

Leonie, ever curious, piped up, "Why are you buying men's clothes?"

Gwyneth said nothing, but it was

moments like this she unde

why Mr. and Mrs. Everhart were so fiercely protective of Leonie

"It's for your uncle,” she answered finally.

Leonie beamed. "He's going to be thrilled!"

"Fifty thousand dollars," the auctioneer called. "Any higher bids?"

“Three hundred thousand," Gwyneth said coolly. "And if anyone else wants it, I'll go even higher."

Her words stunned the crowd. Hans had already bought her most of the best pieces tonight, scooping up nearly everything worth having at the auction. Laird and Connor both turned to look at Gwyneth in surprise.

"She must be buying that for her husband," Laird dared to mutter.

Connor replied icily, "With a dark color like that, it's probably for her father or grandfather."

Without a moment's hesitation,

Gwyneth claimed the final piece. A few people in the room had come specifically for that jacket, and their disappointment was palpable. They shot her bitter glances, whispering among themselves. Nobody recognized Gwyneth, but everyone knew that the main players rarely revealed themselves at events like these.