The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge

Gwyneth stood up without hesitation, though a hint of confusion flickered across her face. "What does she want with me?"

It was only her second day at The Everhart Group. At her level, why would the deputy director be interested in her?

"You'll find out when you get there. I'm just the messenger-how would I know?"

Vera didn't bother hiding her impatience. The others in the office shot them a brief glance, then quickly buried themselves in their work, pretending nothing was happening.

Gwyneth tidied her desk with a practiced sweep, then followed Vera down the hall.

Inside the office, Yvette was immersed in a stack of paperwork, flipping through pages, occasionally jotting down notes or stamping her signature. She looked completely absorbed, as if she had no time for small talk.

Vera nudged Gwyneth forward. "Go on in."

Peeking through the half-open door, Gwyneth took in the scene. Yvette was laser- focused on her documents, not at all like someone who wanted a conversation.

"Miss Yvette looks really busy-maybe I should come back later?" Gwyneth ventured. She still had work piling up; if she fell behind on the concept art, the whole team's progress would stall.

Vera snorted. "And what, you think this is a grocery store where you can come and go as you please? If she's busy, you wait. God, you really are new-ever worked a day in your life? No sense of workplace etiquette at all."

She rolled her eyes and stalked off, leaving Gwyneth standing awkwardly at the door.

Left with no choice, Gwyneth took a breath, knocked, and stepped inside. Yvette didn't even bother to look up, let alone acknowledge her.

Seeing just how swamped Yvette was, Gwyneth inched closer, her voice gentle. "Miss Yvette, you wanted to see me?"noveldrama

Yvette glanced up, almost absently-but the moment their eyes met, she paused.

There was something striking about Gwyneth: a natural beauty, almost ethereal, nothing like the fresh-out-of-college rookie Yvette had pictured.

Yvette's casual expression hardened, her tone turning frostier. "Go wait by the side. Can't you see I'm busy?"

Gwyneth stifled a sigh. If Yvette was this busy, why summon her in the first place?

Her eyes drifted to the desk. With

her sharp vision, she couldn't help but notice a small error—a misplaced decimal point on a financial report that Yvette was

about to stamp.

Gwyneth hesitated, then decided to speak up. "Miss Yvette, there's a mistake here."

She pointed lightly at the spot; it would only take a second glance to see it.

Yvette didn't appreciate the gesture.

Her face darkened with anger. "Gwyneth, you've been here less than two days and already you don't know how to show basic respect to your superiors? According to your resume, you're no stranger to the workplace. Are you trying to make me treat you like some clueless intern?"

She slammed the report down in front of Gwyneth. "What did you study, anyway? You think you can read financial statements, just point out errors as you please? Or did you think, just because Mr. Everhart brought you in, you could show off in front of me?"

Her eyes narrowed, full of disdain. "A concept artist lecturing me about finance— what a joke."

Gwyneth met her glare, calm and unflinching.

She wasn't the type to belittle others, but she made an exception for pointless provocations.

"I studied actuarial science. Got my FSA-Fellow of the Society of Actuaries— three years ago."