No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 391

And then—there was Ian, seated at the head of the table.

His long, slender fingers tapped rhythmically against the polished wood, and the black shirt he wore today made him look even more distant and unapproachable, exuding a cold, regal aura.

Eleanor was dressed head-to-toe in black as well, and together, the pair’s matching attire drew more than a few surprised glances around the room.

As the door opened, Ian lifted his gaze, his eyes lingering on Eleanor for a brief moment.

Only then did Eleanor realize everyone seemed to be waiting for her.

“Sorry I’m late,” she said quietly, hurrying to the empty seat.

A flash of annoyance crossed Faye’s eyes. Who does Eleanor think she is, making everyone wait for her?

Byron cleared his throat. “Let’s get started, shall we?”

Decker, the lead engineer, began the progress report. Halfway through, Ian interrupted, his voice calm and unyielding. “The military wants testing completed in two months. Your progress is too slow. This isn’t the result I expect.”

Everyone stiffened. They still hadn’t met Mr. Goodwin’s standards?

Decker, already prone to stammering, went pale under Ian’s scrutiny. “Mr. Goodwin, we’ve already accelerated the schedule—”

“Mr. Goodwin, all our research is strictly following the project plan,” another engineer chimed in hastily.

“Mr. Goodwin, the main problem is—the, uh, the stability testing still—” Decker faltered, but Ian cut him off with a raised hand. “I’m not interested in excuses.”

The room fell so silent you could hear a pin drop.

Eleanor glanced at Decker’s reddening face and quietly set her pen down.

“This solution…” He paused thoughtfully. “How much additional funding would it require?”

“Fifteen percent more than the original budget,” Eleanor answered, meeting his eyes.

Faye couldn’t hide her smirk. The new proposal exceeded the approved budget by a mile—so much so that Byron had been too nervous to even bring it up. But Eleanor just laid it out there.

Joel jumped in at the right moment. “Eleanor’s plan is viable. We’ve already run some small-scale tests.”

Ian’s eyes stayed locked on Eleanor as he tapped his fingers on the table twice. “Proceed with this plan,” he said. Glancing at his watch, he added, “I want an interim report in one week.”

Faye’s smirk froze. Was he serious?

How could Ian just approve such a huge budget increase without a second thought? Yet he’d agreed—just like that.