No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 77

"Yeah!" Evelyn nodded, but just then, she spotted a tall figure striding toward them. Her eyes welled up with tears again. "Daddy!"

Ian knelt and gently steadied her small shoulders, his gaze full of concern as he looked her over. "Evelyn, are you hurt?"

She shook her head. "No, I'm okay."

Ian ruffled her hair. "Don't worry, sweetheart. I'm here."

The principal arrived with several teachers, inviting them to wait in the lounge while things were sorted out. Vivian came in too, holding Xavier's hand and talking softly with him.

The three teachers nearby looked on nervously.

Everyone knew the students at this private preschool came from powerful, influential families—none of them were people you'd want to cross.

At that moment, the principal—a woman in her early forties—hurried in, anxiety written all over her face. She quickly greeted Ian and Xavier.

"I'm so sorry this happened at our school. We take full responsibility and will handle everything properly."

Soon after, a video recording of the incident was shown. On the screen, Vivian and Evelyn were seen playing in the hallway when a chubby little boy suddenly ran up and snatched Vivian's stuffed animal.

Vivian tried to get it back, but the boy just grinned, holding the toy out of reach. Evelyn sprang forward, grabbing the other end, and the two of them tugged back and forth for several seconds. Suddenly, Evelyn lost her grip, and the boy tumbled backward, hitting the back of his head on the floor.

Xavier's expression darkened as he realized his niece had been bullied like this at school.

Eleanor, meanwhile, couldn't help but feel a bit proud of her daughter for standing up for her friend—even against someone much bigger than herself.

Just then, a shrill, high-pitched voice rang out from the hallway. "Where are the parents of that child? I'm telling you now, if this isn't handled properly, I'll go straight to the press. Don't think you can sweep this under the rug! My husband owns a film company—he has connections with several media outlets."

"Yes, of course, we'll make sure this is dealt with appropriately," the vice principal replied with a nervous smile, ushering a woman inside. Behind her, a nanny carried the chubby boy, his head swathed in bandages.

"You—" Mrs. Lambert faltered. She knew perfectly well her son had snatched the mixed-race girl's toy.

Eleanor, her patience fraying, spoke up. "We're willing to listen to mediation."

Mrs. Lambert scoffed, "Mediation? I don't accept that! There's only one solution: you apologize and pay for damages, or there's nothing to talk about."

She had barely finished when a short, stocky man strode in and immediately snapped at her, "Be quiet."

Mrs. Lambert stared at him in disbelief. "Why are you yelling at me? Yell at them!"

"Go sit down," Mr. Lambert retorted, then turned to Ian and Xavier with a sheepish smile. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Goodwin, Mr. Vaughn. My son was out of line, and it's our fault for not teaching him better. We sincerely apologize."

Mrs. Lambert could only gape at her husband, completely stunned.