No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 1349

When the doorbell rang, Eleanor went to open it. She saw her daughter bouncing in happily, followed by the man striding in behind her. She suppressed the urge to question him.

She was afraid she wouldn't be able to control her emotions and would end up arguing with him again, and her daughter was clearly very happy tonight.

Joslyn had prepared a light dinner. Ian called them to the table. Evelyn's eyes lit up when she saw her favorite dishes. "They have my favorite pork ribs! I want some!"

"Go wash your hands with Daddy," Ian told his daughter.

Evelyn took his hand and followed him toward the first-floor bathroom. Eleanor stood with her arms crossed, watching them with a heavy heart.

Joslyn noticed and asked with concern, "Ma'am, what's wrong?"

"It's nothing." Eleanor shook her head, but her mind was filled with the notes her father had left behind.

She had studied them again that afternoon. Her father's leukemia research wasn't comprehensive; it was focused on a very specific and rare type of the disease.

It was directed toward a sudden-onset, hereditary form of leukemia.

If Ian was truly motivated by profit, his research focus wouldn't have been so narrow and specific.

Eleanor couldn't figure it out. Just then, her daughter ran over, and she forced a smile, taking her hand and leading her to the table.

Ian sat across from Eleanor. Joslyn had already eaten and had gone to her room to rest.

After dinner, Joslyn came out to clean up. Ian's phone rang. He glanced at it and said to Eleanor, "I'm heading downstairs."

"Okay." Eleanor didn't ask him to stay; she had to help her daughter with her reading soon.

Ian walked into the elevator and answered his phone. "Hello."

If Vanessa really became Mrs. Cooper, given her personality and their past entanglements, there was no guarantee she wouldn't use Wells's influence to cause trouble for him and Eleanor. He couldn't stand by and let that possibility materialize.

-

Drexford, in a hotel room.

The sound of something shattering echoed as Vanessa sat on the sofa, her face contorted with resentment. The contents of her purse were scattered across the floor.

"Damn it! Where did Walden Wells get so many ex-girlfriends? And why did they have to show up to comfort him right now? What does that make me?"

Laverne sighed beside her. She hadn't expected that by the time they arrived, several cars would be parked outside Wells's villa, with his former girlfriends—some young, some old—getting out to shower him with concern and care.

Of course, their intentions were obvious. They were all preying on his grief over losing his only son, hoping to get another piece of his fortune. After all, he was worth billions. Any small handout from him would be enough for these women to live comfortably for the rest of their lives.