No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 197

The next morning, Eleanor drove her daughter to school, unaware that a black SUV was tailing her from a discreet distance. Inside, someone was snapping photos.

Those photos landed in Faye's inbox not long after.

Faye studied the shots—Eleanor, alone, walking her daughter to school. Of course, she thought with a smirk. Miserable marriage, husband nowhere to be seen.

"Keep following her," Faye instructed curtly. "I want a photo of her husband. Don't mess this up."

That afternoon, at three o'clock, Eleanor messaged Joslyn: Could you pick up Evelyn today? I'll be in a meeting till five.

Joslyn checked the message and got ready to leave for the school. But before she could step out, her phone rang. It was Ian.

"Mrs. Goodwin will be in meetings until five," he said smoothly. "I'll pick up Evelyn."

"Yes, sir," Joslyn replied automatically, slipping back into old habits, still thinking of him as the man of the house.

Outside the school gates, the tail was still posted in his car, eyes glued to the entrance as children poured out. He'd memorized Eleanor's daughter's face by now. As parents arrived, he watched every adult-child pair with laser focus.

Finally, he spotted Evelyn skipping out, her hand tucked safely in a man's. The man looked distinguished, sharply dressed. The tail grabbed his phone and filmed as the two walked to a gleaming Rolls-Royce. As they drove off, he muttered under his breath, "Damn, real money. Rolls-Royce and everything."

He sent a snapshot to Faye: "Got your man. Balance, please."

Faye was practically trembling with anticipation. She transferred the payment without a second thought, even though the photo only showed the man's profile, not his full face.

Then a video arrived.

Faye clicked it open, her breath catching as she watched the man's face come into view. Her heart stopped. No. Impossible. Eleanor's husband was Ian? This had to be a mistake.

She closed the video and scrolled back to the morning's photos: Eleanor dropping off her daughter. She squinted at the little girl's face. Same child.

Faye pressed her hand over her mouth, her mind racing. After a moment, she ended a call with a friend and immediately dialed Vanessa.

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