No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 717

Eleanor’s brows knit as she swept past him, face cool and expressionless.

“Looks like I should congratulate you,” Ian said, his sharp brow arching, a chill flickering in his dark eyes.

She knew exactly what he was getting at—did he really think things with her and Mansfield were getting serious?

Ignoring him, Eleanor swiped her keycard and pushed into her room. As she moved to shut the door behind her, a sudden arm blocked the way. Ian forced the door open, stepped inside, and with one long arm, closed it behind him.

“Ian, get out.” Eleanor took a step back, her gaze hard and wary.

“I just want to say a few words. I won’t bother you long,” Ian replied, his eyes narrowing. “When it comes to remarriage, I suggest we talk things through with our daughter first. She shouldn’t be caught in the crossfire.”

Eleanor tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and retreated another step, putting distance between them.

“I don’t need your advice on this.” She moved forward, reaching for the handle, ready to show him out.

But Ian’s arm shot out, his hand covering hers on the door. “I’m not finished,” he said, his palm dry and warm against her skin.

Eleanor jerked her hand away as if she’d been shocked. “You want to talk, but that doesn’t mean I want to listen.”

“That’s your choice,” Ian replied, his voice rough. “Mansfield may be a good man, but he’s not right for you.”

She turned her face away, even less interested in hearing his opinion.

“I’m not saying you’re not good enough for him. With your status now, the Ellington family would have no reason to turn you down,” Ian pressed on. “But if you do marry into the Ellingtons, I have only one request: let Evelyn live with me. You’ll still have custody, but I want her under my roof.”

Eleanor’s face blanched. She whirled on him, anger sparking in her eyes. “With you? What, is Vanessa incapable of having children, or just unwilling? Why should my daughter be raised by you two?”

A storm of emotions churned behind Ian’s eyes. He rasped, “I swear I’ll never marry anyone for the rest of my life. Can you say the same?”

Eleanor’s breath hitched. She let out a cold laugh. “What you do with your life is your business, Ian. Don’t use that as an excuse to take Evelyn from me.”

His gaze darkened further. “I just don’t want Evelyn to get hurt. Not even unintentionally.”

Eleanor hesitated. She loved her daughter every bit as much as he did. Steadying her voice, she said, “Evelyn is my daughter. I’ll take care of everything.”

Ian paused, reading something new in her words. Was this a sign Eleanor had agreed to marry into the Ellingtons? Was she already preparing Evelyn for it?

After a moment’s silence, Ian composed himself, slipping back into his usual calm. “Fine. The five-year no-remarriage agreement still stands. But if you insist on going ahead, don’t blame me for fighting you for custody.”

Eleanor’s chest rose and fell, his words striking a nerve. She nearly shouted, “Ian, don’t you dare try to take Evelyn away from me. I’ll never use her as a bargaining chip.”

His eyes flickered. “You can hate me if you want. But please, just believe this—no one in this world wants Evelyn to be happy and healthy more than I do.”

Just then, a knock sounded at the door. York’s muffled voice floated in. “Eleanor? Are you up? I’d like to talk.”

“N-no, not really. I just wanted to see if you wanted something to eat,” he stammered, dropping his gaze, cheeks tinged with embarrassment.

“I’ve had enough, and it’s getting late. Let’s talk tomorrow, all right?” Vanessa gave him a gentle smile. “Thank you.”

“Okay. Good night.” Henry looked up, catching her smile, momentarily transfixed.

Just then, Vanessa’s phone rang. She glanced over her shoulder. “I’m expecting a call from Ian. This might be him. Good night.”

A flicker of disappointment crossed Henry’s eyes. “Good night.”

After closing the door, Vanessa headed for the sofa and picked up her phone. The call was from her manager.

“Hello? What’s up?” she answered.

“Aren’t you supposed to be sick? Why are you at the Kingston?” Laverne’s voice demanded.

Vanessa scowled, clearly annoyed. “I’m not as fragile as you think.”

“Well, take care of yourself anyway. You’ve still got several commercials to shoot.”

“Got it!” Vanessa hung up. Just then, a text from Ian popped up: “Tomorrow, I’ll go with you to the Military Medical University.”