Chapter 723

The implication was clear: he had gone to take care of his physiological needs.

Gwyneth offered no reply, simply climbing into bed and pulling the covers up to her chin.

Hawthorne settled onto the sofa, covered himself with the blanket, and turned his back to her.

For the rest of the night, neither of them said a word.

But in the middle of the night, Gwyneth kicked off her blanket, and Hawthorne got up

to gently cover her again before returning to the sofa.

This happened several times, and Gwyneth was aware of it.

She opened her eyes once, saw him, and quickly shut them again, pretending to be asleep.

She fought to push aside any kindness he showed her.

No matter how well he treated her, it couldn't erase the fact that he was having an affair.

Before their marriage, she might not have had a say, but they were married now.

If it weren't for the patriarch, she would have already left him.

How could he soothe her with one hand while carefully setting up Patti Yale at his company with the other?

Was he trying to have his cake and eat it too?

The thought sent another wave of bitterness through her, extinguishing the flicker of warmth his actions had ignited.

She squeezed her eyes shut, determined to ignore him completely.

Meanwhile, with Hawthorne and Gwyneth back in Starfall City, Leonie was bored out of her mind.

Remembering her promise, she decided to visit the injured Connor in the hospital. Since Gwyneth and Hawthorne's visit, Connor's friends had been relentlessly bad- mouthing Gwyneth as soon as they were alone with him.

They were convinced that Connor hadn't known she was married.

"Connor, be honest, did that woman seduce you?" his friend Liam asked while peeling an apple "Was she just using her resemblance to the Racing God to get close to you? How could you be so naive?"

If it weren't for Gwyneth, Connor wouldn't be in this state, encased in plaster with only his mouth free to move.

The doctors said it would take months to recover, and even then, a full recovery wasn't guaranteed.

"Yeah, man another friend chimed

in. "And she had the nerve to bring

her husband to see you. I can't believe her husband is Hawthorne that handsome devil.

As they talked, Connor stared blankly at the ceiling, his mind elsewhere.

He was replaying the race, wondering how Gwyneth could have been so fast. Since his debut, no one on the national circuit had ever surpassed his speed. He'd thought beating a girl like Gwyneth would be child's play.

But from the moment the race started, her explosive acceleration had left him struggling just to keep up.

He knew she was just a girl, but where did she get that kind of stamina?

Furthermore, his car was a professional-grade machine, not something an amateur could handle.

He had assumed she was just a rich girl who liked to play with cars.

When her Ferrari had slammed into him, he'd seen the same passion for racing in her eyes and had only meant to tease her a bit.

He never imagined that the amateur he'd underestimated would turn out to be a stone-cold killer on the track, wiping him out completely.

Her skills couldn't be explained away by just being 'the Racing God's daughter.' She had to have at least eight years of professional training.

It just didn't make sense.

Even a surge of adrenaline couldn't turn an ordinary person into someone who could outpace a seasoned, award-winning professional racer like him.

His friends, noticing his silence,

pressed on. "Connor, say something! That woman isn't worth it. If she

really cared she wouldn't have brought her husband here

humiliate you."