No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 87

She walked along the path to Ashford Medical University, and it was almost a daily ritual to be surrounded by younger med students—some of them even asked for her autograph. It embarrassed Faye, but she couldn't deny that the attention, the admiration, all felt rather intoxicating.

Yet every time someone asked how she'd discovered the antiviral breakthrough, she only smiled, never offering much of an answer.

That morning, her mother called, inviting her home for lunch.

—

Noon, Yeaton Manor.

As Faye pulled up to the house, a bright red Ferrari glided into the driveway beside her. Under the midday sun, two girls stepped out at the same time, their features strikingly similar.

"Faye!" Vanessa called, smiling warmly.

Faye, ever the proud one, gave a cool reply. "Didn't expect to see you here."

Vanessa was a year younger than Faye. Years ago, Vanessa's mother had tried to marry Roland, swollen with pregnancy, but the Yeaton elders refused her—her background was too humble for their taste.

Roland had sent Vanessa's mother off to Montclair to give birth, then promptly married Faye's mother, who came from a family with political clout.

But fate is never so simple. After having Faye, her mother was diagnosed with ovarian cancer, lost her uterus, and could never have more children.

To keep her husband from marrying again, Mrs. Yeaton welcomed Vanessa and her mother into the family, maintaining an uneasy truce.

Any mistresses Roland tried to keep outside the marriage—Mrs. Yeaton quietly put an end to those affairs, making it clear she would tolerate no more illegitimate children.

Roland wasn't exactly thrilled, but both daughters were grown now, each more accomplished than the other. He eventually gave up on hoping for a son.

"Dad, even Ian complimented Faye in front of me!" Vanessa chimed in with a smile.

Faye froze. Ian praised her? He was the lab's biggest investor. If she confessed now, wouldn't she be humiliating herself right in front of him?

Vanessa's voice was gentle. "Dad, I think you should do it. Faye deserves every bit of this reward."

Faye set her bag down. "There's no need for a new car. Excuse me—I need to use the restroom."

Inside the bathroom, she buried her face in her hands, taking deep, shuddering breaths. It felt as if some invisible force was propelling her forward, making it impossible to explain herself.

She was a thief now—a thief who had stolen Eleanor's discovery, and with it, the glow and glory that should have been hers.