No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 489

The convention center was quiet when Eleanor’s phone rang. She glanced at the screen and, without hesitation, declined the call.

Xavier turned to her. “Not going to answer?”

“Just another spam call,” Eleanor replied casually.

Moments later, her phone buzzed with a message. She glanced down: it was from Ian. “Come to my office at ten tomorrow. We need to talk.”

Eleanor frowned. There was nothing left between them worth discussing.

She ignored the message and slipped her phone away.

After browsing the art exhibit, Eleanor and Xavier took the kids out for dinner at a nearby bistro before heading home separately.

Evelyn was all smiles, her laughter lingering in Eleanor’s mind as she tucked her daughter into bed that night. It had been a good day—full and satisfying.

At ten o’clock, with Evelyn already asleep, Eleanor lay in bed when her phone lit up again. She reached for it, half-distracted.

“Ten o’clock tomorrow. Don’t be late.” Ian again.

Eleanor stared coldly at the words on her screen. What on earth did he want now? Gritting her teeth, she typed back: “What is there to talk about?”

He replied almost instantly: “About revising Evelyn’s custody arrangement.”

Eleanor’s breath caught. Her fingers flew across the screen. “What do you mean by that, Ian?”

His answer came just as quickly. “Exactly what it says. Ten o’clock. Don’t make me wait.”

A heavy weight pressed against Eleanor’s chest. Was he really going to try and take Evelyn from her? It hadn’t even been a year since the divorce—how could he be thinking of this already?

She looked over at her sleeping daughter and clenched her jaw. “Custody isn’t up for negotiation. I won’t give her up.”

“We’ll talk tomorrow.” Ian clearly had no intention of arguing further tonight.

Eleanor shut her eyes, resigned. She’d have to face him tomorrow and see what game he was playing.

A moment later, she got out of bed and headed to her study. She called Frazier, her attorney, hoping for some advice.

“Eleanor, the divorce agreement itself is solid,” Frazier reassured her. “But those extra clauses Ian insisted on… he might try to use them. Don’t worry yet. See what he has to say tomorrow.”

Eleanor hung up, still unsure what Ian was plotting. All she could do was wait for their meeting.

The next morning, after dropping Evelyn at school, Eleanor drove to Goodwin & Co.

At 9:50, she walked into the company’s marble-floored lobby.

Eleanor shook her head, incredulous.

“Whatever scheme you’re playing, I’m not interested,” she said icily. “I won’t be threatened—and I’m not signing anything.”

Ian arched an eyebrow. “You clearly care for Xavier, and his mother seems happy to accept you. But even if Xavier is willing to wait five years, his mother certainly isn’t. I’m just trying to help you.”

Eleanor stepped forward, grabbed the file, and slammed it down onto the floor. “Let me make this clear, Ian: don’t try to threaten me. I will never give up custody of Evelyn. Not now, not ever.”

The assistant had just cracked the door with a tray of coffee when the noise startled her. She peeked in, wide-eyed, then quickly closed the door again.

Ian looked genuinely taken aback, frozen for several seconds as Eleanor glared at him. Finally, he sighed. “Fine. Forget I said anything.”

Eleanor wasted no time. She turned on her heel and headed for the door. As she pulled it open, Ian spoke again. “Don’t let your personal life get in the way of your research. Stay on top of your project deadlines.”

Eleanor ignored him, slamming the door behind her.

Outside, the assistant shook her head in amazement. She’d never seen anyone stand up to Mr. Goodwin like that.

After Eleanor left, the assistant knocked and poked her head in. “Mr. Goodwin, should I tidy up in here?”

Ian nodded, looking lost in thought. As she cleaned up, she stole a glance at him—he was sprawled back on the sofa, eyes closed, as if blocking out the world.