The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge novel Chapter 676

The surprise on her coworkers’ faces was so intense, they completely forgot that Gwyneth was in the middle of dealing with Patti Yale’s secret photos of the exhibition artifacts. Instead, everyone crowded around her.

Her secret had dropped so suddenly, no one had time to process it.

Up until now, the wildest rumors were that Gwyneth might be Mr. Everhart’s secret lover—or maybe just a hopeless admirer chasing after him.

No one had imagined she was actually his wife.

Seeing everyone’s shocked expressions, Gwyneth herself started to feel a little embarrassed.

She’d planned on letting everyone know about her true identity little by little, but clearly, things had taken a very different turn.

“Gwyn, your last name is Langford and you’re from Starfall City… Are you really the Langford family’s heiress?” someone finally blurted out in disbelief.

Patti Yale, standing nearby, grew visibly impatient. Even after Gwyneth revealed her identity, Patti only seemed to get more arrogant.

“So you’re really Mrs. Everhart? Maybe you don’t know about my relationship with Hawthorne,” Patti sneered. “I already told you: we grew up together. You’re just a naïve little girl who barged into someone else’s relationship. Having a marriage certificate doesn’t mean a thing.”

Gwyneth looked at her coolly. “If a marriage certificate doesn’t mean anything, then what does that make you? The other woman—knowingly playing that part. Don’t you have any shame?”

Patti’s face flushed bright red. No matter how modern society claimed to be, women who knowingly became “the other woman” were still looked down upon.

“Who says I’m the third wheel? I went abroad, and you took advantage of the situation. You’re the one who came between us—stealing what wasn’t yours. Don’t think you can just use your youth or good looks to win him over. Hawthorne has always loved me. And I’m taking this hairpin,” Patti snapped, snatching the jade pin without a second thought.

Gwyneth’s eyes hardened.

Her heart ached. Two years of painstaking work, destroyed in an instant.

Just then, Patti’s phone rang—Hawthorne’s name lit up on the screen.

Facing the furious staff, Patti didn’t show the slightest sign of fear. Instead, she answered the call and put it on speaker.

She sounded so soft and fragile, as if she were the victim—when in truth, she was the one who had just thrown a tantrum and smashed something irreplaceable.