The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge novel Chapter 902

Dorian's private life was far from glamorous, and his profession was scandalous to most, but he had never crossed a single boundary or shown her anything less than absolute respect. He just chatted with her like a best friend, accompanied her on casual outings, and shared stories from his childhood with a pure, almost childlike innocence.

He had shared his past with Leonie with complete transparency, making her feel that, for the first time in her life, someone was treating her like a normal human being rather than a valuable commodity to be used.

"No, it's not about Connor. He has nothing to do with this. I'm going to go find Hawthorne."

Leonie seemed evasive, and Gwyneth didn't press the issue, watching quietly as the younger girl hurried upstairs to the office.

She burst into the room just as Hawthorne was setting his phone down.

Leonie couldn't hold back her anxiety. "Did you find him?"

Hawthorne tapped his fingers rhythmically against the desk, his gaze sharp. "What kind of people have you been hanging around lately? How did you get mixed up with someone like that?"

The surveillance footage had revealed that the vans belonged to Sully, the boss of Greenvale's largest underground entertainment club. In other words, these men were the absolute bottom-feeders of the city's criminal underbelly.

Hawthorne couldn't fathom how Leonie had gotten entangled with street trash.

Leonie was left speechless by his pointed question, entirely unsure of how to justify the situation.

Her face flushed deeply, but she was desperate enough to put everything on the line. "Hawthorne, Dorian isn't what you think. He's not like those people."

Honestly, she couldn't fully articulate what kind of person Dorian was, but she knew she couldn't hide the truth from Hawthorne.

Hawthorne's brow furrowed into a tight knot. He had never heard the name Dorian before, meaning the guy was a complete nobody. He remembered Leonie had been involved with the Green family's boy, Connor, so how had she suddenly gotten tangled up with this Dorian?

And a club escort from a shady underground lounge, no less? If his older brother and sister-in-law found out, they'd probably have a heart attack.

Hawthorne met Leonie's gaze with calm, chilling authority. "This is absurd."

Leonie knew Dorian's background and profession were scandalous, but to save a life, she couldn't care less about appearances.

"Hawthorne, I swear there's nothing romantic between Dorian and me. We're strictly friends. Today, I was just driving him to The Greenvale Playhouse because he needed to meet a mentor of his."

Hawthorne was incredibly uneasy about Leonie associating with a leech like that, but she looked as though she were under a spell. He figured nothing he said would change her mind right now.

Still, Hawthorne needed to set the record straight. He refused to let her remain in the dark. If she knew exactly who Dorian was and still insisted on saving him, Hawthorne would drop the argument.

He just needed to assign a security detail to keep a close eye on her. Leonie looked up at him with desperate, hopeful eyes, waiting for his verdict.

Hawthorne sighed in resignation. "Dorian was a kept man for years. Are you aware of this? He was with a fifty-year-old woman. Are you absolutely certain you aren't dating him, or that he isn't just playing you?"

The moment he finished speaking, Leonie's cheeks burned scarlet. Seeing her reaction, Hawthorne instantly understood: she already knew everything about Dorian's past.

Hawthorne's tone grew heavy with earnest caution. Men like that were parasites, clawing their way up by feeding off vulnerable women.

"I don't know how you justify his character in your mind. You've spent some time with him, so you're looking at him through rose-colored glasses."

"If he were just a complete stranger, and you heard he spent years being bought and paid for by an older woman, would you still think he's such a great guy?"