No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 626

“Hello?”

“Ms. Sutton, the Vaughn Group’s thirtieth anniversary gala is going to be held at our hotel. Will you be joining us?”

Eleanor paused, surprised. She hadn’t expected Xavier to host the event at the Vesper Joy Hotel.

“He just invited me today,” she replied.

“Yes, we’re almost done with the preparations. I meant to mention it last time, but I got caught up and forgot,” Ellington apologized.

“It’s fine. Just make sure everything goes smoothly. Don’t let Mr. Vaughn down.”

“Of course, absolutely. After all, he’s a friend of Mr. Goodwin’s too!” Ellington added with a chuckle.

Eleanor ended the call.

At the dining table, Joslyn looked at her. “Would you like to celebrate your birthday at home next week, ma’am?”

Eleanor blinked, realizing how quickly time had passed. Another birthday was right around the corner.

“I’ll think about it,” she said softly. This past year had been so full, she’d barely noticed how quickly it had flown by.

The next three days, Eleanor and Joel headed out to the research facility to do some groundwork for their upcoming project.

The engineers were busy, carving out a self-contained work zone.

At lunch in the cafeteria, Eleanor sat with Simone Langley, catching up on things. Simone, ever the traditionalist, couldn’t help but steer the conversation toward Eleanor’s personal life.

“Eleanor, I can see Joel treats you well. If you have the time, maybe you should think about your own happiness.”

Eleanor knew Simone meant well. She looked up with a smile. “Professor Langley, honestly, I barely have a minute to myself these days.”

Simone, now fifty-five, had once let her own research overshadow everything else—including finding a partner. She didn’t want Eleanor to end up the same way: successful, but alone.

“There’s no rush. You’re only twenty-seven,” Simone said gently.

“Almost twenty-eight,” Eleanor replied with a laugh.

“You’re still young, plenty of time left,” Simone reassured her. “But don’t let the right one slip by, either.”

Eleanor nodded, though in truth, her work and her daughter were her whole world now. Romance just wasn’t something she needed anymore.

The week slipped by, and Friday afternoon arrived before she knew it.

Xavier was getting busier as well, so Vivian’s pick-up was handled by the nanny. When the nanny saw Eleanor, she greeted her warmly—no doubt because her employer had always spoken so fondly of Eleanor.

Eleanor exchanged a few friendly words with her, as she often did.

On Saturday morning, Eleanor dressed her daughter in a custom-made princess dress—warm and beautiful.

“Mom, when are we leaving?” Evelyn bounced with excitement.

“We’ll head to the hotel for lunch, and then the gala’s in the evening.”

The two girls soon grew restless and begged to go downstairs. Eleanor and Xavier had little choice but to take them to the children’s lounge.

Just as they stepped out of the suite, Evelyn shouted gleefully, “Daddy!”

Eleanor stiffened. She and Xavier turned to see who she was calling.

Under the soft hallway lights, Ian appeared in a perfectly tailored black suit, looking as cool and composed as ever.

He was on the phone, but at Evelyn’s excited shout he glanced over. When he saw Eleanor and Xavier coming out together, his gaze lingered on Eleanor before shifting to Xavier, something complicated flickering in his eyes.

“Ian, you made it,” Xavier greeted him, his tone even.

Ian ended his call, nodded coolly, and bent down to scoop his daughter into his arms. “Did you miss me?”

“I did!” Evelyn wrapped her arms around his neck, then turned to Eleanor. “Mom, Daddy’s here!”

Eleanor gave a small nod. “Do you still want to go to the playroom?”

Evelyn slid down from Ian’s arms at once. “Daddy, I’m going to play!”

Vivian tugged at Xavier’s hand. “Uncle, let’s go!”

Eleanor took Evelyn’s hand, Xavier took Vivian’s, and together they headed for the elevators.

Ian stood in the hallway, watching Eleanor and Xavier walk away until they disappeared around the corner. Suddenly, a sharp pain stabbed through his chest. He pressed his hand to his heart, struggling to catch his breath.