No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 406

Faye finally left, glancing back at the assistants she’d just startled.

Eleanor waited in her cubicle until everyone had gone. She’d overheard what Faye said.

So, Ian and Vanessa were already talking about marriage?

If it came from Faye’s mouth, chances were it was true.

Eleanor remembered Vanessa’s celebration dinner the other night—the whole thing had felt like a proposal. Maybe Ian had already popped the question.

Shaking off the thought, Eleanor returned to her office. Soon after, Joel Kingsley stopped by, and the two of them went over some work matters.

Just then, Eleanor’s extension rang. She picked up. “Hello, this is Eleanor.”

“Eleanor, come to my office for a moment.” It was Byron.

“Of course, Mr. Chase,” she replied.

She turned to Joel. “Mr. Chase wants to see me.”

He nodded. “Go ahead.”

Eleanor took the elevator up to Byron’s office. The moment she opened the door, she froze—someone else was sitting on the couch. Ian.

“Where’s Mr. Chase?” Eleanor asked, though she already suspected Ian was the one who wanted to see her.

Ian’s eyes met hers, calm and unreadable. “I asked him to step out. I’m the one who needs to talk to you.”

Eleanor’s expression turned cold. “If it’s not about work, then I don’t want to hear it.”

Ian stood, his tall frame closing the distance between them, each step deliberate. “Last time, you said you wanted to schedule monthly visitation times and limits. Is that right? Why?”

She met his gaze, spine straight, refusing to be intimidated.

“You want to cut me out of my daughter’s life completely, is that it?” Ian was only a few feet away now, his stare fixed on her, accusation simmering beneath the surface.

That was exactly what Eleanor hoped for—to free her daughter from his influence, to help her stop depending on him.

Eleanor’s silence spoke volumes.

Ian swallowed hard, turning to the window, one hand shoved into his pocket. “I remember the day Evelyn was born,” he said quietly, his voice a little rough. “The doctor handed her to me, all bundled up in a pink blanket, so tiny—like a kitten that hadn’t even opened its eyes.”

He paused, glancing over and catching the sudden rigidity in Eleanor’s posture. His voice grew even lower. “The first time I held her, my hands were shaking.”

If he really tried to fight for custody, she wasn’t sure she could win. After all, the divorce agreement did grant him eight visits a month.

“Nobody in this world loves her more than I do. Not even you,” Ian added quietly.

“Fine,” Eleanor said, lifting her chin. “But you have to promise me one thing—Vanessa stays away from my daughter.”

Ian didn’t hesitate. “Agreed.”

Eleanor studied him, searching for any sign of dishonesty. “You’d better keep your word.”

“I always do,” Ian replied, eyes narrowing.

Eleanor turned and walked out, her fists clenched, a wave of anger rising in her chest.

Outside, Laird was still waiting. When he saw Eleanor come out, he hurried over. “All done with Mr. Goodwin?”

“We’re finished. You can go in.” Eleanor’s voice was curt.

Laird nervously knocked and entered. “Mr. Goodwin, it’s time for the meeting.”

“I know.” Ian took a sip of tea, then stood and headed for the conference room.