No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 674

A fruit forced from the vine never tastes sweet—but sometimes, you just need something to quench your thirst.

Ian’s face darkened instantly, his eyes drilling into Serena with a severity he’d never shown before. “Serena, snap out of it,” he said, voice sharp as frost.

He was truly angry now; anyone could see it. The stubborn look on his sister’s face only made it worse.

Serena shrank back, startled by her brother’s icy demeanor.

His tone was cold and cutting. “The only reason Xavier treats you with an ounce of courtesy is because you’re my sister. Otherwise, do you really think he’d even look at you twice?”

The color drained from Serena’s face.

“You think he doesn’t know how you feel? He’s just trying not to cause a rift between our families.”

Each of Ian’s words landed like a hammer blow, his voice chilled to the bone. Serena bit her lip, tears welling up in her eyes as the pain twisted inside her.

“Then what about Eleanor?” she shot back, desperate, her voice trembling. “If you know Xavier so well, why is he so taken with her?”

Ian didn’t hesitate to drive the point home, his bluntness as merciless as ever. “Eleanor is already a rising star in the research world. You and she aren’t even in the same league. Besides your last name—besides being the Goodwin family’s precious daughter—what else do you have that could ever catch his eye?”

No one outside had ever dared speak to Serena this way; no one had ever cut her down so ruthlessly. But now, every word from her brother sliced straight through her pride and left her feeling worthless.

She pressed her hands over her face, voice breaking. “How could you say that to me, Ian?”

He gave her a sidelong look. Better to let her see herself clearly now than let her make a fool of herself in front of Xavier.

Suddenly, Serena looked up, her eyes rimmed red. “Wait—you keep saying how amazing Eleanor is. Don’t tell me you—”

Could her brother have fallen for Eleanor too? Was that the real reason Vanessa was so devastated she’d hurt herself?

Ian’s gaze lingered on her for a few silent seconds, unreadable.

The warm lamplight in the living room cast sharp shadows across his face, his lashes hiding whatever emotion flickered in his eyes.

Serena wouldn’t let it go. “Say something, Ian!” she demanded, her hands clenched so tightly her knuckles turned white. She didn’t really want to hear his answer, but she couldn’t stop herself from asking.

“It’s none of your business,” Ian replied, cold and indifferent, giving nothing away.

“I had anatomy today—want to hear about it? No, you’d hate that. Never mind, I’ll just read for a bit.” The video showed Eleanor hoisting a heavy bag, only to spill its contents: a pile of thick textbooks.

So she’d always loved reading.

To be honest, Ian had never watched the whole set of bedside videos. That dark stretch of his life was something he preferred not to remember—no one enjoys seeing themselves so weak.

He clicked on another recording, one he hadn’t seen before. In it, Eleanor sat hunched at his bedside, her eyes shining like starlight.

“Ian, please wake up soon! I think I... I might be falling for you.”

Ian’s throat tightened, his gaze growing darker in the dim light.

The video continued, Eleanor’s voice playful and teasing: “Not that you can hear me. And when you wake up, I’ll never admit it!”

He shut the laptop and strode out to the living room, grabbing a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet. He poured himself a glass and tossed it back, the burn doing nothing to quiet the turmoil inside him.

Tugging at his collar, he finally made his way to the master bathroom. Half an hour later, he emerged, a towel slung around his waist, chest heaving, his eyes dull with exhaustion and a hint of something deeper spent.