No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 618

He couldn’t help but wonder about her personal life outside of work.

“Eleanor, it must have been tough these past two years, raising your son alone after the divorce.”

Eleanor cradled her tea, her gaze drifting to the distant skyline. “I’m used to it by now. My son’s a good kid, barely gives me any trouble.”

“And you and Ian—” York hesitated, the question half-formed.

“Mr. Windsor.” Eleanor cut him off gently. “I know you care. I’m doing just fine, really.”

York let out a soft sigh. “Anyone can see Ian’s a difficult man—stubborn, hard to get along with. I’m not trying to push you two back together, but the brain-computer interface project is a mountain of problems, and on top of that you’re raising a child by yourself. Do you remember how things were after your mother passed? How you and your father managed on your own?”

Eleanor’s breath caught for a moment. Of course she remembered. She smiled. “Maybe I looked pitiful to everyone else, but as long as my dad was there, I was happy no matter where we went.”

York chuckled. “Back then, I really did worry about you.”

“You’ve always been good to me.” Eleanor’s gratitude was sincere.

“Your father asked me to look after you before he passed, and that’s a promise I intend to keep.” York’s eyes wandered to the city’s horizon, his thoughts drifting. After a pause, he asked, “How’s your son doing these days?”

“He’s well. Just the occasional cold, nothing serious,” Eleanor replied.

York’s expression softened with relief. “That’s good to hear.”

After Eleanor left, York sipped his tea. Something weighed on his mind, and he sighed. “You never told me how long to keep this from her. How am I supposed to explain it?”

“Professor, who are you talking to?” Julian approached, curiosity in his voice.

York looked up. “It’s nothing. Go on, the meeting’s about to start.”

***

At the end of the day, Eleanor climbed into her car, exhaustion tugging at her limbs from the endless conference sessions. Just as she leaned back, her phone vibrated with a new message.

“Eleanor, you and Ian are over. Please stop using work as an excuse to get close to him.”

It was from an unknown number, but the tone was unmistakable. Vanessa.

Eleanor stared at the message for a few seconds, then typed back, “Keep your own dog on a leash.”

A reply came instantly. “Eleanor, are you afraid I’ll show this to Ian?”

A slow, knowing smile curved on Vanessa’s lips. “Of course she didn’t have time. Ian was with me.”

The realization dawned on Faye. While Ian was abroad with Vanessa, Eleanor joined York’s lab. If Eleanor could pull off such challenging research, clearly Ian was almost never home.

Looks like she’d underestimated Vanessa’s resourcefulness.

The two sisters had always been aware of each other’s existence, but never had any contact. Faye knew little of Vanessa’s life overseas, only that every year their father sent money to support Vanessa and her mother.

She remembered being eighteen when her mother found out one of her father’s mistresses was secretly pregnant—and with a boy. Her mother intervened, forced the mistress to give up the baby, and after that allowed Vanessa’s mother to see their father from time to time.

The first time Faye met twenty-year-old Vanessa, she’d seemed every bit the pampered heiress—educated, elegant, nothing like a child born on the wrong side of the blanket. In fact, she’d lived better than Faye ever had.

Later, her mother confided that by the time Vanessa turned eighteen, she and her mother had been taken in by a man wealthy beyond imagination—Ian.

Vanessa glanced up. “What are you thinking about?”

Faye leaned forward, lowering her voice. “If you want to secure your place as Mrs. Goodwin, you should give Ian a child. Preferably a boy.”

Vanessa tapped her nail on the rim of her glass, her eyes glinting with amusement. “You really think I’m going to lose to Eleanor?”