No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 1408

"Your life is the result of your own choices. You walked your own path. No one forced you," Eleanor replied calmly.

"Hah! Don't stand there acting so high and mighty." Vanessa suddenly stood up straight. "Eleanor, let me tell you something. All men are the same, especially men like Ian, who are at the top. They will always love themselves the most. He's good to you now because you're useful, because you have value. But the day he finds a woman with more value, he'll throw you away like trash again—just like me."

Her eyes burned with intense resentment and bitterness, as if she wanted to unleash it all on Eleanor.

"Besides, there are so many women younger and more beautiful than you. Men are always suckers for a new face. Aren't you afraid that he'll remarry you only to turn around and find someone younger?" Vanessa stared at Eleanor, trying to find a crack in her composure.

But she was disappointed. Eleanor simply washed her hands, dried them with a paper towel, and asked, "Are you done?"

Not ready to give up, Vanessa pressed on. "Eleanor, you could have any man you want. Why are you still hung up on Ian? Take that Mansfield Ellington—with his status, you should choose him, not go back to your ex-husband."

Eleanor, who had been about to leave, paused. She turned back to Vanessa, clearly surprised by her words.

Vanessa smirked. "I know about Mansfield's identity now. What an incredible family! Even Ian would have to think twice before crossing them, wouldn't he?"

Eleanor's gaze sharpened as if Vanessa had hit a nerve. Her voice turned cold. "Please don't go around advertising his identity."

Her chest heaved, and she glared at Eleanor as if she had been deeply insulted.

Eleanor withdrew her gaze, her expression nothing but cold indifference. She pulled open the door and walked out without a second's hesitation.

Behind her, she heard something crash to the floor. Vanessa had swept the hand soap and aromatherapy diffuser off the counter. She leaned against it, panting heavily.

She muttered with a cold laugh, "Eleanor, you think you've won? You think I need your pity? You're just a little luckier, born into better circumstances, with a bit of talent. So what? Your good fortune won't last forever."