Oh, Hawthorne-never thought you''d have a day like this, did you?


    James sat in his office, head bowed as his secretary knelt between his legs, working him with practiced hands. He closed his eyes in satisfaction, feigning interest as one of thepany''s executives stood before him, dutifully reporting on thetest project updates. The executive, ncing up now and then, took James''s rxed demeanor as a sign of approval, never suspecting what sordid acts were unfolding just out of sight.


    James''s current mistress was his new secretary-young, alluring, and eager to please. He''d already made up his mind: once the Everhart family fortune transferred to his name, he''d bring his child home, divorce his nagging wife, and disappear with the secretary and their son. With billions from two families at his fingertips, who in this city would dare look down on James anymore?


    He''d swallowed years of humiliation at the hands of his father-inw, forced to endure the sneers and cold shoulders. And his wife-she was no better. A sour- faced woman who, after all these years, still hadn''t borne him a son.<fn775c> ??? ????? ???????s ??? ?????s??? ?? f?ndnovel</fn775c>


    James already had a n for Patti Yale''s child, regardless of its gender. The moment it was born, he''d whisk it away overseas and deal with it quietly. All he wanted was the money, nothing more.


    As for the secretary under his desk, she was pregnant-two months along. The blood test had already confirmed it: she was carrying his son. James allowed himself a smug smile, picturing his future endless wealth, a beautiful woman at his side, and freedom atst.


    Meanwhile, in a quiet rural vige, Leonie sat on the porch, nibbling on a slice of pound cake and chatting with Gwh. Under the warm glow of a deskmp, Gwh was carefully carving stamps from blocks of soft rubber, one after another. Leonie watched for a moment, but quickly lost interest. She''d never had the patience for such things. Years ago, when Mr. and Mrs. Everhart sent her to calligraphy lessons, she''d spent the entire morning plucking the bristles from her teacher''s brushes out of boredom-anything but actually writing a single character.


    "How do you do this every day?" Leonie asked, swinging her feet. "All this carving and drawing-don''t you get bored?"


    Gwh paused, ncing at her with a faint smile. "If you enjoy something, it''s never boring."


    1.n


    Leonie seized her chance to steer the conversation toward her uncle. "My uncle really is a block of wood He''s never tried to charm a girl, never@ven smiled at one. I always wondered, could someone so dull ever find someone who''d like him? Wouldnt being with him be boring But you whenever you''re together, you''re always smiling. So, you must really like him, right?"  s


    Leonie''s main job, as Mrs. Everhart had earnestly reminded her beforeing, was to remind Gwh of her feelings for her uncle-at every opportunity.


    Gwh''s hand stilled for a


    moment, lost in thought. Dull? Wooden? No, that wasn''t Hawthorne atal To her he was quietly romantic, effortlessly perceptive-he understood women, especially her, in ways that left her defenseless. In just a month, she''d fallenpletely for him.  s


    In many ways, Gwh felt she and Hawthorne were alike-reserved, their emotions buried deep. But all of that was in the past now ands had no wish to revisit it. Content forevisitit. belongs to s


    She imagined Hawthorne at that very moment, probably entangled with his long-


    lost first love, doing God knows what. The thought made her temples throb.


    "Leonie, if you bring up your uncle one more time, I just might get angry."