No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 240

“I just need the raw data.” Eleanor met Faye’s gaze, her voice steady and unyielding. “Now.”

The air seemed to thicken, tension settling between them.

With a clenched jaw, Faye spun around, yanked a report from a folder, and slapped it down on the table. “Take it.”

Eleanor checked the documents carefully before tucking them away. “Thank you.”

As she turned to leave, Faye’s assistant muttered under her breath, “Acting all professional—like she isn’t just riding her father’s and ex-husband’s coattails…”

Eleanor paused mid-step and glanced coldly at the assistant. The woman froze, caught off guard by the sharpness in Eleanor’s eyes.

But Eleanor had no time to waste on petty arguments.

The moment she was gone, Faye turned her frustration on her two assistants. “Next time, pay attention when you’re transcribing. How do you even manage to mess up a copy? You'd better not drag me down with you.”

The two assistants flushed with embarrassment—they knew this mistake was on them.

“Sorry, Faye.”

Faye was furious at their carelessness, but what bothered her even more was Eleanor’s attitude—like she was somehow above the rest of them.

Back in her office, Eleanor dove into work. The information from her father sparked a new idea—maybe, just maybe, she could break the traditional barriers of transplantation by approaching it from a gene editing angle.

She became so absorbed in designing her experiments that she forgot about lunch entirely. In the end, it was Joel who, hearing she was still at her desk, brought up a takeout container of simple pasta for her.

Since Ian was picking up their daughter, Eleanor decided to stay late. She’d planned to be home for dinner with Evelyn, but the work just kept piling up. With a sigh, she texted Ian.

“Take Evelyn out for dinner tonight—I’ll be working late, probably until nine.”

“Alright.”

“And don’t let her have too many sweets,” she added.

“I’ll keep an eye on her.”

Eleanor had barely set her phone down when another message popped up. Expecting Ian to have more to say, she glanced at the screen and saw just three words:

She bit her lip, grabbed her phone, and stepped outside, pacing the quiet street as she dialed Ian’s number.

He picked up on the first ring. “Hey.”

“Ian, did you really take Evelyn to see Vanessa tonight?” Eleanor demanded, her anger barely contained.

“It was just a coincidence at the restaurant.”

“Is that so?” Eleanor let out a cold, humorless laugh.

“Serena brought her. Evelyn had a great time tonight,” Ian replied, his voice even.

Eleanor’s tone turned scathing. “Ian, do you really think it’s appropriate to introduce a five-year-old to her father’s new girlfriend?”

“Eleanor.” Ian’s voice grew serious.

“She’s young, Ian, not stupid.” Eleanor bit out the words, then ended the call without waiting for a reply.