No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 607

After picking Evelyn up and bringing her home, the bodyguards didn’t leave. Instead, they took shifts patrolling the street across from Eleanor’s townhouse, keeping watch through the night.

That evening, Eleanor received a call from Ellington. There was a senior staff meeting scheduled for ten the next morning, and he hoped she could spare an hour to attend. Eleanor agreed.

Beyond her life as a research scientist, Eleanor was also a businesswoman, the owner of eight companies. That night, she set aside her work for Meridian Dynamics, opened the reports Ellington had sent, and discussed the details with him over a video call.

The next morning arrived.

Eleanor dressed in a sharply tailored sapphire blue suit, a pair of pearl studs adding a touch of understated elegance.

After dropping Evelyn off at school, she drove straight to the Vesper Joy Hotel.

In the hotel’s breakfast lounge, Eleanor dined like any other guest, accompanied by the general manager and an assistant. They watched her closely, anxious for her reaction to the restaurant’s new menu.

Once she finished breakfast, Eleanor pushed open the door to the conference room. Sixteen executives rose simultaneously to greet her.

“Ms. Sutton.”

She nodded, walking unhurriedly to the head of the table.

At that moment, an unexpected guest entered.

Ian.

He wore a charcoal suit, looking composed, eyes still as piercing as ever.

“Mr. Goodwin, what brings you here? I thought your schedule was packed today,” Ellington said, surprised, rising to greet him.

Ian covered his mouth with a cough. “Sorry I’m late.”

The executives stiffened, caught off guard. Although Ian was one of the hotel’s major shareholders, he rarely attended anything but the annual meetings and almost never involved himself in daily operations.

Eleanor’s expression didn’t change as she glanced up at the man who’d shown up despite clearly being unwell.

Ian broke into a rough cough, clutching his mouth.

Ellington paused, the room falling silent for a few seconds. One of the senior managers leaned forward, concern etched on his face. “Mr. Goodwin, are you alright? Should we call a doctor?”

Ian looked up, his voice rough. “No need. Please, continue.”

Ellington nodded. “Beginning next week, we’re launching the ‘Sky Service’ program at all our hotels. All VIP clients will receive complimentary helicopter transfers—”

Ellington’s report continued, his voice steady. Eleanor, meanwhile, flipped through the documents in her hands, eyes sharp with focus.

At the far end of the table, Ian pressed his fingers to his lips, trying to stifle another cough.

Eleanor reached into her bag for her iPad. As she drew it out, the bag tipped—there was a soft clatter as an elegant velvet jewelry box slid onto the table, followed by her lipstick and car keys.

The noise interrupted Ellington mid-sentence. Eleanor didn’t rush to pick up her things. Instead, she looked to Ellington. “Go on.”