No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 489

The convention center was quiet when Eleanor’s phone rang. She glanced at the screen and, without hesitation, declined the call.

Xavier turned to her. “Not going to answer?”

“Just another spam call,” Eleanor replied casually.

Moments later, her phone buzzed with a message. She glanced down: it was from Ian. “Come to my office at ten tomorrow. We need to talk.”

Eleanor frowned. There was nothing left between them worth discussing.

She ignored the message and slipped her phone away.

After browsing the art exhibit, Eleanor and Xavier took the kids out for dinner at a nearby bistro before heading home separately.

Evelyn was all smiles, her laughter lingering in Eleanor’s mind as she tucked her daughter into bed that night. It had been a good day—full and satisfying.

At ten o’clock, with Evelyn already asleep, Eleanor lay in bed when her phone lit up again. She reached for it, half-distracted.

“Ten o’clock tomorrow. Don’t be late.” Ian again.

Eleanor stared coldly at the words on her screen. What on earth did he want now? Gritting her teeth, she typed back: “What is there to talk about?”

He replied almost instantly: “About revising Evelyn’s custody arrangement.”

Eleanor’s breath caught. Her fingers flew across the screen. “What do you mean by that, Ian?”

His answer came just as quickly. “Exactly what it says. Ten o’clock. Don’t make me wait.”

A heavy weight pressed against Eleanor’s chest. Was he really going to try and take Evelyn from her? It hadn’t even been a year since the divorce—how could he be thinking of this already?

She looked over at her sleeping daughter and clenched her jaw. “Custody isn’t up for negotiation. I won’t give her up.”

“We’ll talk tomorrow.” Ian clearly had no intention of arguing further tonight.

Eleanor shut her eyes, resigned. She’d have to face him tomorrow and see what game he was playing.

A moment later, she got out of bed and headed to her study. She called Frazier, her attorney, hoping for some advice.

“Eleanor, the divorce agreement itself is solid,” Frazier reassured her. “But those extra clauses Ian insisted on… he might try to use them. Don’t worry yet. See what he has to say tomorrow.”

Eleanor hung up, still unsure what Ian was plotting. All she could do was wait for their meeting.

The next morning, after dropping Evelyn at school, Eleanor drove to Goodwin & Co.

At 9:50, she walked into the company’s marble-floored lobby.

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