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The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge novel Chapter 510

Summary for Chapter 510: The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge

Read The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge Chapter 510 - The hottest series of the author Lavender

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Gwyneth Langford woke early that morning and made herself a quick breakfast—two fried eggs and a glass of milk. She’d just taken a bite of toast when the doorbell rang.

She went to answer it, surprised to find her landlady standing on the doorstep.

Letting her in, Gwyneth tried to figure out what this was about. Her lease hadn’t expired; she’d paid all her bills on time. Why show up so suddenly?

“Miss Langford, I’m terribly sorry, but my son recently got engaged and they need a place to live, so we won’t be able to renew the lease. I’ll refund you the rest of your rent, of course.”

The landlady looked suitably apologetic, but Gwyneth couldn’t shake the feeling that this was all a little too convenient. She’d been job hunting for weeks with no luck, and now, suddenly, she was being kicked out? There was only one person she could think of behind this—Bill Crawford.

“Alright,” Gwyneth said briskly, holding out her phone for the landlady to scan and refund the remaining rent.

“I’m sorry, Miss Langford, but could you possibly move out today?” the landlady pressed. Now that the money was transferred, she didn’t bother to hide her impatience. Gwyneth doubted this had anything to do with her son needing a place; more likely, she just wanted to get another tenant in as soon as possible.

Gwyneth didn’t argue. “No problem.”

She saw the landlady out, closed the door, and finished her simple breakfast. Then she packed a few clothes—leaving most things behind—and left with just a small suitcase.

Half an hour later, Gwyneth was at the Greenvale Grand Hotel, sliding a sleek black card across the reception desk. The clerk stared, wide-eyed, and took the card with both hands, instantly more respectful.

“I’d like to book ten nights,” Gwyneth said.

“In the presidential suite?” the receptionist asked, clearly aware that anyone with a card like this was no ordinary guest.

Gwyneth smiled politely. “No need for anything extravagant. An executive suite will be fine.”

Luxury wasn’t her style. The receptionist looked a little disappointed, but quickly handed back her card and the room keys.

She was young, but the weight she carried would have crushed someone else. Only in the wild, under the vast sky, did she feel her burdens lift and her heart settle.

After a short rest on the overlook, she pressed on. Occasionally, she heard the distant call of a bird from deep in the woods. The further she climbed, the lighter the sky grew at the horizon.

Then, just as she rounded a bend, she thought she heard something—broken, frantic words carried on the wind.

“Let me go! Please, let me go—”

It was the middle of the night, in the wilderness. Gwyneth wondered if she was imagining things. But Mount Wyvernrest was popular with hikers; it was hard to believe something bad could happen here.

She held her breath, straining to listen. There it was again—a girl’s voice, desperate and pleading.

“Help! Let me go, please—”

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