No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 4

Just then, her good friend Joy Thatcher—a sharp attorney with a knack for gossip—sent her a message:

"Ellie, I took a client out for lunch today. Guess what I saw?"-

Three photos popped up right after.

In the pictures, Ian sat in a private dining room, entertaining a few international clients. Seated beside him was Vanessa, looking utterly enchanting.

Vanessa wore a fitted cocktail dress—sleek, elegant, and impossibly alluring. In the third photo, she was laughing and saying something, her smile mischievous and her eyes bright. Ian gazed down at her, transfixed, the two of them looking every bit the picture-perfect couple.

"Ellie, don't let this get to you, okay?" Joy added, trying to comfort her.

"I won't," Eleanor replied, terse and to the point.

To Ian, she was the wife he kept in the shadows. But Vanessa—Vanessa was the one he paraded in public. An internationally renowned pianist, a darling of the fashion world, a muse for luxury brands—Vanessa's beauty and status were everything Ian could ever want on his arm.

At three-thirty in the afternoon, Eleanor got in her car and headed to her daughter's school, determined to be the first to pick her up.

Around four, a red Ferrari pulled up and stopped right across from her. Eleanor's grip tightened on the steering wheel. Vanessa. Of course she'd show up.

Through the windshield, Eleanor saw Vanessa fixing her makeup in the driver's seat. It was obvious—she'd come early, waiting for Ian to pick up his daughter.

A woman who could keep Ian hooked for years wasn't just beautiful—she was cunning and knew exactly what she was doing.

For two years, Eleanor had avoided confronting her. Even when things got heated, she kept her dignity, believing Ian would eventually come back to his senses. But the truth was, the more she endured, the bolder they became.

Eleanor had no intention of engaging with her.

Vanessa gave a soft snort. "So, if I told you the man I loved was stolen away and made someone else's husband, wouldn't that make you the bad guy?"

"You're the first person I've met who can be so shameless and still act so justified," Eleanor shot back without hesitation.

Vanessa's fingers played idly with the sapphire necklace around her neck. Eleanor's eyes flicked to the sparkling jewel—blatant, unmistakable. It didn't even need to be said: Ian had given it to her. After all, he'd spent the last two weeks glued to her side.

Just then, Eleanor saw the school doors opening. Without another word, she strode toward the entrance to meet her daughter.

Behind her, Vanessa watched Eleanor's retreating figure, lips curling into a faint, dismissive smile. There was no mistaking the smugness in her eyes.