The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge novel Chapter 532

Some of what she wrote was work-related, but most were her own reflections—jotted down and sketched out in the pages of her journal.

Gwyneth lost herself in doodling and writing, hours slipping by without her noticing.

Suddenly, she heard voices from downstairs—the housekeeper greeting someone at the door. She knew instantly it was her uncle coming home, and couldn’t resist peeking out of her room.

Sure enough, it was Hawthorne. After a long day at work, he still looked unruffled, not a trace of fatigue on his face.

Gwyneth quickly ducked her head back inside.

“Good evening, sir…”

The butler and one of the maids helped Hawthorne out of his coat, hanging it neatly in the entryway.

He strode to the dining table and paused, frowning at the barely touched plates of food.

“Miss Langford didn’t have dinner?”

That seemed the only explanation.

The butler shot him a helpless look. “Miss Langford has such a tiny appetite—just a few bites and she says she’s full. I’ll never understand how young ladies eat so little.”

Hawthorne gave the butler a cool glance. “Alright, I understand.”

With that, he sat down and finished his meal in silence.

Gwyneth barely slept that night, engrossed in her art. She drew and painted, lost in her own world, until nearly four in the morning.

Oh no—she had to be in the office tomorrow. Dawn was only a few hours away. If she didn’t get some sleep now, she doubted she’d make it through the morning.