No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 771

Joel paused, his hand hovering mid-air with the coffee cup, and didn’t respond right away. Of course he knew about the financial strain—they’d been running through lab supplies at a staggering rate, and the costs of patent applications and licensing alone were enough to keep him up at night.

“Civilian projects are a different story,” Ian said, flipping open a folder. “In less than a year, one of these could turn a profit. That profit would go right back into funding the Neural Interface Project.”

Joel’s brows relaxed a little. “Why not be straightforward with me, Mr. Goodwin?”

“I’m putting you in charge of three separate civilian projects,” Ian replied, his tone warm with trust. “You’ll lead the research teams. I believe in your technical skills and your ability to deliver. If we get the cash flow moving, the Neural Interface Project can finally move ahead without financial worries.”

Joel studied Ian through his glasses, lost in thought. He knew the truth: the Neural Interface Project could probably survive without him, but not without Eleanor.

Lately, he’d been painfully aware of just how difficult it was to break through the project’s technical barriers. The more they pushed forward, the more the costs piled up. If things continued at this pace, they’d burn through even more money, with no guarantee of success.

“The Neural Interface Project needs male researchers for the experimental phase,” Joel said quietly. “Eleanor’s been working herself to the bone. She can’t handle it all alone.”

“I’m planning to bring Callie onto the team,” Ian replied. “She and Eleanor work well together.” He turned to Joel, his expression sincere. “Dr. Kingsley, believe me—I won’t let you down.”

Joel looked him straight in the eye. “Can I ask you something, Mr. Goodwin? All these moves you’re making—what’s your real motivation?”

Ian’s brows drew together. “What exactly do you want to hear, Dr. Kingsley?”

Joel didn’t hesitate. “Are you doing this to support Eleanor, or is it just about the money?”

A sharp smile flickered across Ian’s face, his gaze piercing. “Do you really think making money and supporting Eleanor are mutually exclusive?” he asked. His smile faded, replaced by a cool, businesslike calm. “Goodwin & Co. is a corporation, not a charity. But Eleanor’s research is a long-term investment I’m willing to make. The profits from the civilian projects will fund the Neural Interface Project. There’s no reason I can’t do both.”

He looked Joel up and down. “But what about you, Dr. Kingsley? All the ways you’ve looked out for Eleanor these past few years—what’s your real reason?”

When Joel left the Goodwin & Co. building and got back to his car, he pulled out his phone, ready to text Eleanor. But his fingers hovered over the screen, unsure of what to say.

He couldn’t deny that what Ian had just proposed was urgent. Without the profits from the civilian ventures, Eleanor would never be free to focus entirely on her brain-machine research.

Joel replayed Ian’s words in his mind—the deliberate ambiguity, the careful balance between candor and calculation. It was classic Ian: a businessman through and through. Whatever personal motives he might have, he’d never say them out loud, but Joel sensed something else beneath the surface. For all his self-interest, Ian’s decisions had always included a genuine willingness to invest in Eleanor’s work.

From the very beginning, Ian had never once hesitated to fund any of Eleanor’s research.

Joel still didn’t know what Ian ultimately wanted, but his instincts told him one thing for sure.

Ian meant no harm to Eleanor.