No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 462

Vanessa smiled gently at Ian. “Ian, why don’t you eat something first before you start drinking?”

“Daddy, please don’t drink,” Evelyn chimed in, her lips pouting in protest. She hated the smell of alcohol on her father.

Setting his glass aside, Ian gave her a warm smile. “Alright, Daddy won’t drink. Come here, sweetheart.”

Evelyn scrambled down from her chair and clambered into Ian’s arms. He picked up some food and started feeding her, his attention completely on his daughter.

Just then, Mrs. Vaughn approached, holding her own glass. She looked at the younger generation gathered at the table, her eyes kind. “Let’s have a toast, everyone. Make yourselves at home.”

Ian raised his glass politely and took only a token sip.

Mrs. Vaughn’s gaze drifted across the table, finally settling on Eleanor. Her smile softened. “Eleanor, you should eat more.” She then turned to her son, her tone affectionate but firm. “Xavier, take good care of Eleanor. Don’t let her feel left out.”

As soon as those words left her lips, the atmosphere at the table shifted—tension sweeping in like a draft.

Xavier quickly spoke up, “Mom, you should go greet the other guests.”

Vanessa’s eyes lingered on both Eleanor and Mrs. Vaughn, her mind racing. After seeing Serena Goodwin so heartbroken, it seemed the Vaughn family had really given up on the idea of marrying into the Goodwins.

But Mrs. Vaughn’s words just now—was she giving her approval to Eleanor?

Henry’s expression faltered for a moment too; he seemed to notice that the Vaughns were welcoming Eleanor into the family.

Across the table, Ian’s gaze fixed on Eleanor, his eyes growing darker, unreadable.

Mrs. Vaughn turned her warm smile to Ian. “Ian, Evelyn is such a darling. I liked her the moment I saw her. You must bring her over to our house more often!”

Anyone else might have missed the undertone, but Ian understood. Mrs. Vaughn was sending him a message: if the Vaughns accepted Eleanor, they would accept her child as well. It was her way of reassuring him.

Ian met his gaze. “Go ahead.”

Xavier didn’t hesitate. “Do you still love her?”

Ian’s eyes darkened. “That’s between her and me.”

“It’s my business now too,” Xavier replied, his voice quiet but resolute. “If you can’t give her happiness, I can.”

A faint smile tugged at Ian’s lips. “Are you sure?”

Xavier nodded. “I’m sure.”

Outside, the villa’s lights cast long shadows of the two men across the lawn, stretching on and on—just like the silent rift beginning to form in their friendship.