No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 608

At that moment, Ian bent down, his long, defined fingers picking up the velvet jewelry box and the car key shaped like a tube of lipstick.

He ran his thumb over the velvet box as he glanced at Eleanor. She reached out and swiftly took the elegant box from him. “Thank you,” she said curtly.

Ian pressed his lips into a thin, unreadable line. For a moment, something dark flickered in his eyes. Noticing that Ellington was watching them instead of continuing his report, Ian tapped his fingers against the table, the rhythm sharp and impatient.

Ellington snapped back to attention and hurried on with his presentation, but from then on, Ian’s questions grew noticeably tougher.

Luckily, Ellington was a seasoned manager; he handled the scrutiny with composure, though by the end of the meeting, a faint sheen of sweat covered his brow. The other senior managers wasted no time—once the meeting was over, they filed out quickly.

As Ian stood to leave, he was suddenly wracked by a violent cough. He steadied himself with one hand against the conference table, his knuckles turning white as he struggled for breath.

Eleanor kept gathering her files without missing a beat. She didn’t even glance his way.

“Mr. Goodwin!” Ellington hurried over, concern in his voice. “Let me take you to the hospital.”

Ian waved him off, his gaze shifting to the unbothered Eleanor. His eyes grew complicated—hurt, anger, something else—but he said nothing and turned away, walking out in silence.

Eleanor was in a foul mood. She had come here for a meeting, but Ian had dominated the entire discussion, revealing just how deeply rooted his need for control truly was.

“Ms. Sutton, do you have any objections to Mr. Goodwin’s decision?” Ellington asked politely.

Despite her irritation, Eleanor had to admit Ian’s proposal was the best option. It was about the future of Vesper Joy Group; she couldn’t let her personal feelings get in the way.

“No. Let’s move forward with your plan,” she replied, grabbing her bag and heading out of the conference room.

Ellington gave her a courteous nod of farewell.

She remembered he’d been in the hospital for a week after the car accident; he was probably eager to get out for a while. She happened to be free. “Sure. Do you want me to pick you up?”

“Would that be alright?”

“Of course.”

“Great. I’ll wait for you outside your office.”

She ended the call. At that moment, the elevator chimed open. She stepped inside, Ian following just behind her.

As the doors slid shut, the small space seemed to close in, the tension almost palpable.

In the hush, Ian swallowed hard, as if fighting back words or maybe something deeper. After a few seconds, he finally spoke. “Did Xavier just propose to you?”