The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge novel Chapter 819

He immediately called a doctor, who explained that Gwyneth's coldness was due to her extremely weak constitution. She needed immediate nutritional IVs and careful monitoring to ensure the pregnancy remained stable. The doctor advised against a quick discharge, recommending she stay for at least a week of observation.

Hawthorne sent his assistant to handle the hospital admission while he remained by her side. He spoke to her constantly, endlessly repeating the story of their first meeting and all their happy times together. It was as if only by reliving those moments could he feel like he still had her, not this woman who had nearly faded away in his arms.

Hawthorne kept talking, and as he spoke, his eyes grew moist. He didn't know why he had been in such a rush to destroy James, especially in a way that hurt Gwyneth. He had been blinded by hatred, forgetting everything else around him. He had only wanted to eliminate all threats in Greenvale so he could build a stable home with the woman he loved, because he was going to be a father.

He now decided that after eliminating this one last enemy for the Everhart family, he would hand everything over to Layne and return to Starfall City with Gwyneth to live a simple life. He truly meant it. The Everhart empire was a kingdom he had built with his own hands. Through years of turmoil, he had carved a bloody path, elevating his family to the pinnacle of power in Greenvale.

Layne's temperament was gentler; he wasn't as decisive or ruthless as Hawthorne. Strictly speaking, Layne wasn't an ideal successor, but after all these years, Hawthorne was tired. The bloody battles of the business world had left him weary, turning him into a cold-blooded demon who didn't even know what love was—until he met Gwyneth. Only then did he discover that beyond hatred, money, and power, there was something called love, a force that could heal a person's entire life.

He had wanted to clear the final obstacle for the Everhart family, to hand it over to Layne safely, and then retreat with Gwyneth to a peaceful paradise. “Gwyn, I’m so sorry. I’ll never do it again, I swear. All I want is you and the children to be safe and sound. To hell with fame, fortune, and family.”

When his parents died, he hadn't shed a single tear. When the Everhart family faced its most severe suppression, he felt no sorrow, let alone cried. But now, seeing the woman he loved lying here, lifeless and pale, tears finally fell. He finally understood. Nothing else mattered. All he wanted was his beloved woman and his children, healthy and safe.

Hawthorne watched over Gwyneth, unable to rest until she woke up. He sat by her bed the entire night, not closing his eyes once. The next morning, Gwyneth's eyes fluttered open to the sight of her disheveled, unshaven husband. At first, she barely recognized him. “Water…” Gwyneth had just uttered a single word when Hawthorne, seeing her awake, spoke in a rough, hoarse voice. “Gwyn, you’re finally awake.”

Gwyneth could hardly recognize the man before her. He looked so defeated, as if he had suffered a devastating blow. His handsome face was covered in a fine stubble that shadowed his jaw. She recognized his voice, but she was still in shock. “What happened? Why am I here?” As if remembering something, Gwyneth quickly reached for her stomach. Hawthorne gently took her hand, pressing it against his chin and rubbing it against his stubble. The rough hairs pricked her skin, and she tried to pull away, but he held on tight. “Gwyn, don’t worry. Our babies are fine. They’re okay.”