No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 230

Serena and her friend placed their orders, but at the next table, Eleanor was already halfway through her meal. Facing Xavier, she could see the way he kept glancing at Eleanor with a warm, appreciative smile. Beneath the table, Serena’s nails dug so hard into her palm she almost broke the skin.

Jealousy, longing, resentment—all of it surged through her at once.

“Serena, are you alright?” her friend asked, noticing how distracted she seemed.

“I just don’t have much of an appetite today,” Serena replied.

Truth be told, she wasn’t about to introduce a man like Xavier to her girlfriends. In their social circle, stealing someone’s date was practically sport among the upper crust.

By the time Eleanor and Xavier finished eating, Xavier reached for the check, but the waiter approached with a smile. “Mr. Vaughn, your bill has already been settled by this young lady.”

Xavier blinked in surprise, then looked at Eleanor, a wry smile on his lips. “I thought I was treating you today.”

“This one’s on me. Next time, it’s your turn,” Eleanor grinned. And honestly, she could afford it these days.

Something dark flickered in Xavier’s eyes, but he smiled. “Alright. Next time.”

After the two of them left the restaurant together, Serena found she could hardly force down another bite. She needed to get back to the office, and fast—she had to know why Eleanor was meeting with Xavier today.

She hurried back to the research building owned by Juliette’s foundation and soon learned the truth: Eleanor was attending an academic symposium.

“Serena, the refreshments are ready. Can you help set up?” someone called.

Serena bristled. Did she really have to wait on Eleanor too?

But she was just an assistant here. If she wanted to keep her job, she had to do as she was told.

She carried a tray of tea into the conference room. Xavier sat at the head of the table, with Eleanor at his side, surrounded by seven or eight leading scientists from the lab.

But he always kept his distance. At work, he treated her strictly as a subordinate; after hours, just as a friend. Even those times when she’d managed to share a ride with him, nothing ever happened.

Now, Serena was more certain than ever—the keepsake Xavier treasured was Eleanor’s.

Xavier was in love with Eleanor.

But when did it start?

Had it been that day when Eleanor fell into the pool and Xavier dove in after her without a second thought? He’d held her in the water, his arm around her waist—close enough for something to spark.

Was it then?

If so, Serena wished more than anything that she’d been the one to fall into that pool.