The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge novel Chapter 576

“Alright then. If you’re really planning to marry Gwyn, we can give you time to go back to Greenvale and handle anything you need to sort out there.”

Thorpe put on his most magnanimous expression, while Victoria’s face lit up with delight. Her voice trembled as she turned to Hawthorne. “You’re really willing to join the Langford family? If that’s the case, don’t you worry—Gwyn will have a generous dowry. We have dozens of properties here in Starfall City. You and Gwyn can choose whichever one you want for the wedding—if you’d prefer a standalone house, we can arrange that too.”

Hawthorne’s agreement to come to Starfall City had Victoria absolutely over the moon.

Celia and Chris glanced at each other, bewildered. This wasn’t at all what they’d imagined. Wasn’t Mom supposed to fiercely object to their big sister getting married so quickly? Hadn’t they agreed to have Great-grandpa pretend to be sick just to lure their sister home for a while longer? So, adults really do love to fib?

Chris and Celia puffed out their cheeks in frustration. Even Gwyneth looked completely lost.

Hawthorne didn’t seem like the type to joke around. How had he and her mother managed to see eye to eye so easily?

“Well then, why don’t we just settle the engagement over this meal? We can set a date for the betrothal ceremony later,” Thorpe said, latching onto Hawthorne as if he were a bee and Hawthorne the sweetest honey, terrified he might change his mind.

“Great-grandpa, do you think I’m that desperate to get married?” Gwyneth protested, wondering if anyone at this table would let her get a word in edgewise.

Hawthorne took a sip of tea, his voice calm and unhurried. “I can handle the wedding house myself. I’ll buy us a place in Starfall City with my own money. As for Greenvale, my villa is more than enough—over thirty thousand square feet. Great-grandpa, Mother-in-law, Celia, Chris, you’re all welcome whenever you like.”

Victoria nodded, her approval clear. Truth be told, she wasn’t much older than Hawthorne herself. A mature man treated a woman well; someone the same age might be too childish, while too much of an age gap just led to misunderstandings. Hawthorne and Gwyn were perfectly matched.

“Mom, Great-grandpa—” Gwyneth tried to interject, but nobody seemed willing to let her speak.

Hawthorne reached his hand across the table, covering hers with his own. His fingertips traced gentle circles on her skin, and he seemed to savor the contact.

“What do you think, Mrs. Everhart?”