No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 846

A heavy silence filled Dr. Smith's office.

Ian slowly opened his eyes, the exhaustion and conflict in them giving way to a steely calm. He knew exactly which proposal Smith was referring to.

"Doctor, pack your things. You and your team are coming back with me. I'm going to invite Eleanor to co-lead the research on the final solution with you. We're activating the lab back home."

"That's wonderful news! With Miss Sutton on board, our progress will be exponential," Smith said, his excitement palpable. "I'll bring my entire team for a long-term project in your country." He paused, then nodded. "It's better for treatment when the family is together."

Just then, a new email notification popped up on Smith's screen. He clicked it open, his eyes widening in surprise. "It's from Miss Sutton."

Ian moved to stand behind him, his own gaze fixed on the screen. The sender was, indeed, Eleanor. The subject line was a direct, highly technical query. Ian felt a pang of complex emotion. The first thing Eleanor had done after finding out was not to confront him, but to consult a professional.

Smith opened the email. It was concise and devoid of pleasantries. Eleanor quoted the latest research from the lab's own database and posed several incredibly sharp and professional questions. After reading it, Smith let out an appreciative "Wow."

"Miss Sutton is a genius," he said. "To have absorbed our core research in such a short time and pinpointed the most critical questions… it's remarkable."

Ian frowned. She had only found out last night, yet she was already asking questions with this level of precision. She must have stayed up all night poring over the data.

Just then, a text message from Ian appeared on her phone. "Eleanor, I'm sorry. Can we talk?"

Those few words were like a key unlocking a floodgate of suppressed emotions. The exhaustion from a sleepless night, the terror for her daughter's future, and the raw anger of being kept in the dark all came rushing to the surface.

She bit her lip, walked over to the study door, and locked it. Then, she picked up her phone and dialed his number. He answered immediately. "Hello?"

"Talk?" she seethed. "What do you want to talk about, Ian? How you painstakingly hid your mother's illness? Or the thirty percent chance that Evelyn could inherit it? My daughter is at risk, and you let me live in ignorance? I am her mother! I have the right to know about anything that could endanger her health, but you chose to hide it. Are you even human, Ian? What gave you the right?"