No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 160

"People in business just drive flashy cars for show. Nothing special about it," Faye said with a shrug.

Gwenda, who came from a modest background, glanced at Faye with open envy. "Faye, your family must be even richer than Eleanor's." She paused, something else dawning on her, and added, "And your sister—she's going to be married to the wealthiest man in the country someday!"

Faye's mood soured even further. So what if Eleanor had a husband now? That never stopped her from getting Joel's attention.

…

The car was quiet, so quiet that Eleanor leaned back, closed her eyes, and let herself drift. Ian's driving was steady, almost soothing, and it didn't take long for her exhaustion to win out—she fell asleep.

Days of cramming for exams, coupled with two glasses of wine earlier, had left her utterly drained.

At a red light, Ian eased down on the brakes early, careful not to jolt the car or wake the sleeping woman beside him.

A streetlamp cast pale light through the windshield, highlighting his tall, broad figure and the unreadable expression carved across his face.

He glanced at Eleanor, peacefully asleep, then stared out toward the distance, lost in thought. Finally, he turned the steering wheel, guiding the car away from the familiar route home and onto the coastal highway.

Nearly an hour later—

Eleanor woke in a haze, thinking she'd arrived home. She pushed her messy hair from her forehead, but when she looked up, she froze.

This wasn't her house. It was a lavish seven-star hotel by the sea.

Turning to the man in the driver's seat, she demanded, "Why did you bring me here?"

"Evelyn's at Goodwin Manor tonight. We'll stay here," Ian replied, meeting her gaze. Even though he tried to hide it, his intentions were written all over his face.

Eleanor stared—he wants a night alone with her?

How absurd.

She remembered this hotel. Ian kept a presidential suite here year-round. Back when things were simpler, the three of them would spend weekends here as a family.

"Stop it. I'll take you home," Ian said, opening the passenger door for her.

She hesitated a moment, then slid into the seat.

Ian got behind the wheel without another word. Though he was silent, the tension in the car was thick, his annoyance radiating in waves.

Eleanor was in no better mood. She bit her lip, arms crossed tightly, staring out the window.

The black sedan reversed, then sped back down the winding coastal road.

After a while, Ian turned on the radio, letting soft music fill the silence.

Neither spoke the rest of the way. By the time they pulled up at the house, it was already half past eleven.

Eleanor stepped out and headed into the foyer. Spotting the door to the housekeeper's room opening, she called, "Joslyn, you can head to bed now!"