No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 694

The thing Eleanor hated most was being a burden to others, and Ian knew that all too well.

“My relationship with Xavier has nothing to do with you,” Eleanor said coolly, her tone as crisp as winter air.

Ian’s gaze darkened. “Eleanor, you know exactly what I care about.”

She turned her face away, refusing to meet his eyes. “You have no right to interfere in my life.”

His voice dropped, strained with something deeper. “Are you just trying to provoke me? You really don’t see what Xavier wants from you?”

Eleanor felt a rush of anger and something close to bitter amusement. She hadn’t wanted to argue, but the way this man spoke—it pushed her past her limit.

“Ian, let’s get one thing straight.” Her laugh was icy. “I’m single. I have every right and freedom to see whoever I want.”

His voice came out hoarse, almost wounded. “Do you actually like Xavier?” It was as if, in that moment, he believed she was ready to move on, to start something new.

Eleanor didn’t respond. In her heart, Xavier was a friend, a mentor, someone she respected—but she saw no reason to explain herself to Ian.

Outside, snow drifted silently past the window. Inside, the room was warm, almost springlike. Eleanor had just taken off her coat; the white turtleneck sweater and fitted skirt she wore hugged her curves, a contradiction of innocence and allure.

Ian’s gaze grew even darker. In the quiet, late-night hush of the room, his expression hinted at something wild, something barely restrained—like weeds growing out of control, the harder you try to pull them out, the more they spread.

He stepped closer, slowly, as if every inch was a struggle. “Eleanor, the truth is, we—”

She had avoided his eyes until now. But as she looked up and saw what simmered there, a jolt of alarm ran through her. She shoved him away, her voice low and sharp. “Ian, stay away from me. Don’t you dare think of touching me again.”

The next two days of meetings were optional for her. After tomorrow, Ian could return home whenever he wanted.

Just then, her phone buzzed with a new message. It was from Xavier: “Sorry, Vivian tried calling you earlier. I didn’t realize—did we disturb you?”

Eleanor replied, “No worries.”

Xavier wrote again, “We’ll be in Drexford tomorrow afternoon. If you’re free, let’s grab dinner together?”

It was rare to run into friends in a foreign country; sharing a meal seemed perfectly natural.

“Sounds good!” Eleanor replied. She had promised Vivian, after all.