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No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 282

Eleanor had no choice but to agree. “Alright, I’ll be there on Friday.”

“Don’t worry,” came the reassuring voice on the other end, “Mr. Vaughn and I will be there too. We’ll help you handle the crowd.”

Eleanor paused for a moment. “Okay.”

She spent the entire day in her lab. Before she knew it, Friday had arrived. That evening, Eleanor explained to her daughter that she’d be attending a business dinner. Evelyn Goodwin was growing up quickly, becoming more understanding and considerate with each passing day.

“Okay! Go ahead, Mom. I’ll be good at home,” Evelyn replied, nodding with a maturity that caught Eleanor off guard.

For a moment, Eleanor hesitated, feeling an ache in her heart. Was it the divorce that had made her daughter grow up so quickly? Should a child really have to learn to be this considerate so soon?

As a mother, she knew she should be proud of Evelyn’s growing maturity. Yet, deep down, she understood the truth: children only grow up too soon when they’re missing something—usually love.

Crouching down, Eleanor hugged her daughter tightly. She gave Joslyn a quick word, then headed out the door.

Tonight was a formal occasion; Eleanor couldn’t just wear anything. She had an appointment at a boutique specializing in custom evening gowns.

Thanks to her reputation—her high-profile divorce had put her name in the public eye, as well as her impressive academic achievements—Eleanor was greeted personally when she arrived.

“Ms. Sutton, welcome. Right this way, please.” The store manager came out to escort her.

Upstairs in the private lounge, a selection of elegant gowns sparkled under the lights, handpicked just for her.

“Ms. Sutton, do any of these catch your eye?”

Eleanor’s slender fingers drifted over the fabrics before she finally chose a white floor-length gown—graceful, classic, and understated.

At first, the manager had hoped Eleanor might pick something more dramatic. With her looks and figure, she could have pulled off any of the bold, Western-style evening dresses. But when Eleanor stepped out in that simple white gown, the manager realized she’d been wrong—the understated style brought out an effortless beauty and quiet allure, perfectly outlining Eleanor’s graceful silhouette.

Bathed in soft light, they looked every bit the perfect couple—Vanessa radiant and poised, Ian exuding quiet strength at her side.

In these settings, Vanessa never let herself be overshadowed. She was beautiful, her confidence unshakable, and the man beside her commanded every room he entered.

Ian noticed Eleanor as well; their eyes met briefly before she turned away, refusing to hold his gaze.

Vanessa saw Eleanor too, unsurprised but clearly unsettled. She still couldn’t quite understand why Ian had given Eleanor so much in the divorce settlement—enough to make her a billionaire overnight.

“Ms. Sutton, what a coincidence,” Vanessa called out, taking the initiative to greet her.

Eleanor remained cool and aloof, ignoring her. Just then, the elevator arrived. Eleanor and Ellington stepped in first. Vanessa suddenly tightened her grip on Ian’s arm. “Let’s wait for the next one, Ian.”

Ian glanced up at Eleanor, his expression distant and unreadable.

As the elevator doors slid shut, it was clear—he had no desire to share an elevator with Eleanor either.

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