Chapter 677

Hawthorne paused, phone in hand, a flicker of confusion on his face. What was Patti Yale doing at the exhibition today? Weren't they supposed to go on the last day, as agreed?

"There are staff there—I'll just let them know," Patti said, glancing at Gwyneth with a hint of challenge in her eyes.

"Some lady claimed to be Mrs. Everhart. She was fierce seriously, is that really your husband? She threatened to call the cops on me," Patti added, lips curling into a provocative smile.

Hearing Hawthorne's voice coming through the phone made something ache deep in Gwyneth's chest, a pain sharper and more humiliating than the moment she'd dropped the jade hairpin. It was unmistakably Hawthorne-no doubt about it. So was she really going to keep pretending this woman had nothing to do with him?

Gwyneth waited, expecting the man on the other end to explain, but all she got was the click of a dropped call.

Patti looked disgruntled, while the exhibition manager by Gwyneth's side suddenly received a call of his own.

"Yes, of course, Mr. Everhart. Understood." He hung up and hurried over to Patti Yale, bowing his head respectfully. "I apologize, Miss Yale. Mr. Everhart says you're free to take as many photos as you like. We were in the wrong earlier."

Gwyneth swayed slightly, feeling the weight of everyone's eyes on her. She'd just announced her identity in front of all these people, only to have Hawthorne publicly undermine her with a single call. Why had he left her to deal with this mess? Was he trying to humiliate her on purpose?

She just couldn't understand. They hadn't known each other long, but Hawthorne had always treated her so well. She refused to believe he'd betray her like this.

"You hear that, Mrs. Everhart?" Patti called over her shoulder, snatching her phone back and tossing her long, dark hair. "Hawthorne says I can take all the photos I want. Guess you wasted your energy playing the villain."

With a satisfied smirk, Patti turned and strode away, leaving a trail of awkward silence in her wake.

"What on earth just happened?" one of Gwyneth's colleagues from the game development team whispered, bewildered. "Is this some kind of soap opera?"

"Did Mr. Everhart really just side with his mistress in front of his wife? They've only just gotten married!"

"There has to be some ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs, ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴠɪsɪᴛ fındnovel.net

misunderstanding, Gwyn." Another colleague leaned in, his voice low. “Maybe she saved Mr Everhart's life

or something otherwise how do something-otherwise

you explain it?" s

Gwyneth's face was perfectly calm. She forced a smile. "Once we finish the exhibition, dinner's on me. Let's not call it a night until we're all tipsy."

Her coworkers exchanged worried glances. No one believed that any new bride could be so unfazed after such a scene, no matter how composed she appeared. "Are you really okay?"

"Of course," Gwyneth replied, her smile unwavering. "I trust my husband will have an explanation."

She slowly unclipped her staff badge and handed it to the manager.

A quick glance at her phone-no calls, no messages from Hawthorne. He knew she was here. So he had no intention of explaining what Patti Yale was doing at the exhibition.

With the awkward incident hanging over them, nobody felt like admiring the art anymore.

"Mrs. Everhart, what should we do about this?" the manager asked, holding out the broken hairpin.

Gwyneth's voice was cool. "That's not my responsibility. Ask Mr. Everhart."

Apparently, Hawthorne had given

her the authority to handle the Patti

Yale situation without even knowing.

in knowing,

it was his own mistress causing

trouble. Why throw her to the wolves like this?

s

She'd been exposed and humiliated in front of her coworkers, made into a laughingstock.

A wave of helplessness washed over Gwyneth. Her mind drifted back to years ago, when Violet Marchand would keep her close just to mock Victoria-while she, foolishly had sided with the wrong womamand helped bully her own mother. s