Chapter 683

What an absurd, melodramatic situation. If this was really what Hawthorne wanted to discuss, Gwyneth could just tune him out entirely.

She had no idea where he got these twisted ideas-she almost laughed out of sheer exasperation.

"That's not what I meant..."

He'd explain everything to her when this was all over, but now wasn't the time.

Hawthorne studied her for a moment. "If you're not feeling well today, you should probably stay home. You don't look great. Should I have Leonie keep you company?"

Gwyneth's expression was icy. "That won't be necessary, Hawthorne. What I want is your signature on the divorce papers."

Hawthorne let out a weary sigh. "Gwyn, we're not getting divorced. That's just not happening."

He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, but Gwyneth turned her face away, leaving no doubt that she wanted nothing to do with him.

The resolve in her eyes was unshakable-she looked like a soldier resigned to the battlefield.

Hawthorne glanced at the clock on the wall. He had an important video conference this morning, and if he didn't leave now, he'd be late.

Gwyneth's face was like stone. Hawthorne realized there was no reasoning with her today. Original content can be found at f͟i͟n͟d͟n͟o͟v͟e͟l͟.net

"I'm heading to the office. Leonie will be here soon."

After Hawthorne left, Gwyneth checked the nightstand her copy of the divorce agreement was gone. She'd have to write up another.

She began packing her things, keeping it simple: just the essentials. When she entered the study, she noticed all the art supplies Hawthorne had bought for her were still untouched.

She took nothing but the portrait she'd painted of Hawthorne, pulling it off the easel after gazing at it for a moment.

As for the paints he'd given her, she left them all behind-except for her favorite ultramarine blue.

When Leonie arrived, the housekeeper answered the door. Leonie burst in and immediately asked, "Where's Gwyn?"

Hawthorne had called, telling her to spend the day with

Gwyneth-unusual, since Gwyneth never skipped work and reonie herself was supposed to be at the office. Something felt off. s

She'd tried calling Gwyneth all last night, but there was no answer, and no reply

this morning either. That had never happened before.

"Madam went out," the housekeeper said, having seen Gwyneth drive off earlier. She figured Gwyneth had just gone to work and didn't think much of it.

Leonie hurriedly dialed Hawthorne. "Uncle, Gwyneth's gone. I can't find her anywhere."

Across from Hawthorne, Patti Yale was perched on the edge of her seat, straining to overhear his phone call above the café's chatter. She couldot quite make out everything but she noticed the sudden tension in his face. s

"Is something wrong, Mrs. Everhart?" Patti asked with feigned concern.

She pouted, aggrieved. "Yesterday at the gallery, some woman said she was your wife and tried to have security throw me out, Hawthorne..."

His eyes darkened. Patti's phone buzzed in her pocket-a message from James.

She'd planned out everything she wanted to say, but the call interrupted her.

"Hawthorne, I need to use the restroom. Be right back."

"Go ahead,” he replied, watching her closely.

Patti ducked into the ladies' room and called James.

"Relax, Hawthorne's totally into me. Did you get the photos of the artifacts I sent? Any good?"

James lounged on his sofa, exhaling

ePone

a cloud of smoke. "You need to get closer to Hawthorne's main tech company. The photos? Museums have those already. They're worthless. Gain his full trust then get inside his company. Once you're in..."

s

When Patti returned, Hawthorne was quietly stirring his coffee. "What were you saying just now?"

James had set up a meeting. Patti was growing restless.

"Hawthorne, I'm feeling a bit tired. Mind if I head home?"