No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 1133

The meeting had just begun when one of the directors was the first to complain, "Fifty billion? Mr. Goodwin, the Neural Interface Project has already consumed a massive amount of capital with no commercial return in sight, and now you want to add another fifty billion? This is just burning money."

An uproar filled the room as half of the board members voiced their agreement.

"I suggest we keep the civilian application part of the project but cut funding for the medical R&D," another director proposed. "That way, we can at least salvage the initial investment."

Seated at the head of the table, Ian listened calmly to the chorus of objections, his eyes behind the gold-rimmed glasses as sharp as a scalpel.

"Any other opinions? Let's hear them all now," Ian said coolly. His voice wasn't loud, but it instantly silenced the agitated shareholders.

"Mr. Goodwin, now's not the time to let emotions drive the decision," advised an older director, one on good terms with him. "The group has a duty to its shareholders."

Eleanor's hands tightened under the table. Just as she'd expected, the lack of progress on the Neural Interface Project had drawn the ire of the major shareholders, and they were now protesting collectively.

She looked at the man at the head of the table, who remained calm and composed, exuding his usual confidence and ease.

Ian possessed a naturally commanding presence, and for a moment, the emotional shareholders didn't dare say more. Still, some grumbled under their breath, "But the investment is just too large—"

"It is precisely because I am responsible for the shareholders' interests that I insist on this project," Ian said, standing up. His gaze swept across the room. "I believe in the project led by Dr. Sutton. It will undoubtedly achieve remarkable success and will not disappoint any of you."

In an instant, every gaze shifted toward Eleanor. Her company held a substantial stake in Goodwin & Co., which made her a legitimate major shareholder.

"Ms. Sutton, can you guarantee that? Can you guarantee our investment will see a return instead of just going down the drain?" a middle-aged shareholder sitting across from her challenged, his tone laced with a hint of disdain.

After all, Eleanor was too young and had a face that beautiful. Anyone would instinctively doubt whether she was just a pretty face with no substance.

Under everyone's gaze, Eleanor slowly rose to her feet. She was dressed in a simple white suit, looking cool and professional.

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