The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge novel Chapter 585

As expected, it wasn’t really the wine that made her tipsy—sometimes it was just the atmosphere. Hawthorne reached over to feel Gwyneth’s flushed cheeks, then gently took her glass away.

“That’s enough for now. Too much isn’t good for you,” he said softly.

Gwyneth didn’t protest. Instead, she placed her hand right over his, the warmth of her skin startling Hawthorne as if he’d touched a live wire. Yet she seemed completely oblivious, her eyes bright and mischievous.

“Come on, who do you think you’re dealing with? I can handle another round,” she declared, reaching for the wine again.

Hawthorne gave her a crooked half-smile. “I’m just worried that if you keep drinking, you’ll be too out of it for what comes next.”

That comment sobered her up almost instantly. Gwyneth’s head cleared in a flash, and even Hawthorne’s handsome face seemed less blurry.

Wait. What did he just say?

What comes next?

A sudden heat crept up her neck. Hawthorne, meanwhile, had already gotten up to start clearing the dishes.

The house was still new, and her great-grandfather hadn’t arranged for any staff or housekeepers, so they were left to handle everything themselves.

“There’s some tea and fruit ready for you in the sitting room,” Hawthorne called out. “Go have a drink, maybe watch a little TV to sober up. I’ll join you as soon as I’m done here.”

He gave her cheek a gentle pinch before heading off to tidy up.

Gwyneth watched his tall, effortless figure move away, and—feeling sheepish—slipped into the sitting room.

On the coffee table, she found a tray of snacks and neatly cut fruit, just as he’d promised.

She’d eaten so much at dinner that she could barely move, but she distractedly sipped a little tea and nibbled on some fruit, mostly to busy her hands. Her attention, though, was entirely focused on the faint clatter coming from the kitchen.

Whatever was on the oversized flat-screen across from her, she didn’t register a single second of it.