The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge novel Chapter 630

Gwyneth seemed to have said something similar before—or maybe Connor had overheard it in a private room.

If he really thought about it, Connor could probably piece together that Hawthorne and Gwyneth were connected.

“It’s just a coincidence,” he muttered.

He had no interest in whatever Laird was saying.

But Laird stepped right in front of him, blocking his way. “You really don’t recognize the guy with that woman? Hans—that’s Hawthorne’s personal assistant.”

With no intention of sparing Connor’s feelings, Laird shattered his illusions. “Mr. Kaufman, stop kidding yourself. That woman is Hawthorne’s new wife.”

Connor’s fist landed squarely on Laird’s nose before he could finish. Blood oozed between Laird’s fingers as he clutched his face in shock.

“You son of a—”

Laird swallowed the rest of his words. He couldn’t afford to cross Connor. With Connor agreeing to compete, Laird stood to make five million dollars a year off him.

And there was more: rumor had it Connor’s uncle was a lifelong bachelor. Beyond Connor’s own value, he was the only heir to the Green family’s fortune in Starfall City.

“Max—”

The cold, authoritative voice cut through the tension just as Connor was about to throw another punch. He glared at Laird, furious that he’d had to hear the truth like this.

Connor looked up. No one called him Max except his uncle.

Marcus strode over, motioning for his assistant to check Laird’s injury. Laird had met Marcus before and, reading the room, quickly echoed Connor, “Uncle.”

“I was just messing around with Mr. Kaufman,” Laird insisted, trying to play it off. “No big deal.”

“Your nose is still bleeding. I’d say your bridge is broken. That’s not nothing—get it looked at,” Marcus replied coolly, then turned to Connor.

“What’s got you so fired up? This isn’t like you.”

Connor had never lost his temper like this before, not even with someone he truly despised.

“It’s nothing. I’m leaving.” His expression was nonchalant, trying to play it off.

Meanwhile, Gwyneth and Hans emerged from the auction hall. They’d gotten turned around and ended up retracing their steps, only to run into Marcus at the entrance.

Gwyneth greeted him softly, “Marcus.”

Leonie glanced at Gwyneth in surprise—she knew Marcus, but hadn’t expected Gwyneth to know him too.

Hans had also met Marcus before. “Mr. Green,” he said politely.

Marcus nodded. “Hans.” But when he looked at Gwyneth, his eyes took on a faraway, almost stunned quality.

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