The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge novel Chapter 536

He didn’t have time to dwell on Gwyneth’s words any longer. Honestly, it was odd—why should he care what a young woman like her thought, anyway?

So what if he was getting older? Sure, he’d been called out by a girl for it, but his peers never seemed to think he was past his prime.

Why let it get under his skin?

“Understood, sir.”

Hans lingered for a moment longer until Hawthorne looked up at him.

“Is there something else you’re waiting for?”

Hans blinked, a little bewildered.

Was that it? He’d been standing there, expecting some further instructions from Hawthorne, but the man’s expression made it clear the conversation was over.

Suddenly, it clicked.

He got it now—Miss Yvette’s jealousy hadn’t been for nothing.

Mr. Everhart was genuinely interested in this new girl who’d just joined the company. Why else would he suddenly ask if he was getting old?

So it looked like Miss Yvette’s reign was coming to an end.

Hans made his way over to the game design department, stopping by the break room to pick up a coffee—extra milk, extra sugar—for Gwyneth.

Gwyneth looked up in confusion when she saw him approach, assuming there must be something important he needed.

She hadn’t even started sketching the game’s characters yet; if she had, she probably wouldn’t have even noticed Hans at her desk.

“Miss Langford, your coffee.”

The coworkers nearby exchanged incredulous glances. The rumors had to be true. Hans himself was delivering coffee to the company’s newest hire? Clearly, Gwyneth was destined to be the future Mrs. Everhart.

“Thank you. Did you need something?”

Gwyneth wasn’t afraid of much, but the thought of Hans asking her to see Hawthorne definitely made her uneasy.

“Uh, thanks, but I really can’t eat all this, and I don’t need the makeup, either.”

She tried to return the gifts, but she genuinely didn’t want or need any of it.

Gwyneth might be a woman, but she didn’t care for snacks, and hardly ever wore makeup. She washed her face with plain water, sometimes used a hydrating face mask, and that was about it.

She’d been blessed with naturally rosy lips and flawless, porcelain skin. Foundation or concealer would only hide her glow; her lips were a healthy pink, and her whole complexion was fresh and dewy, with delicate lashes that needed no mascara.

All those lotions and cosmetics couldn’t possibly improve on what she already had, so she saw no point in keeping them.

“Gwyn, don’t be so polite with us!”

Before she could respond, someone called out, “Gwyneth, Miss Yvette wants to see you in her office.”

The design department had been lively a moment ago, but the second Yvette’s assistant appeared at the door, everyone froze and darted back to their desks in silence, statuesque.

All that filled the air was the soft scratch of pencils and the occasional cough. Gwyneth glanced at Vera, not entirely sure who Miss Yvette was, but as vice president, she must be a big deal around here.