No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 935

He looked into Eleanor's eyes, which shone like clear water in the hallway light, and nodded. "Yes."

"Why did you never tell me?" she asked, her tone more questioning than accusatory.

"Come to my place. I'll tell you everything you want to know," Ian said in a low voice, clearly unwilling to have this conversation in the open.

Eleanor turned her head away, her expression a mixture of disgust and refusal.

Ian's gaze locked onto her. "No one has ever been inside that apartment except for Serena and me." He said it to let her know that Vanessa had never crossed its threshold. "And like I said today, she and I—"

Eleanor cut him off coldly. "Your relationship with her is not what I want to talk about. I only want to discuss my father and you."

Ian paused, his eyes burning into hers. "Fine. Come to my place, and I'll tell you everything you want to know." He turned and walked toward the elevator. After a moment's hesitation, Eleanor followed.

He opened the door and switched on the lights, revealing an apartment that was a study in minimalist modernism—a stark palette of black, white, and gray. It was cold, orderly, and so clean it felt almost sterile, devoid of any personal warmth. Only a toy basket in the corner, filled with a dozen or so children's toys, offered a small crack in the austere facade.

"You don't need to take off your shoes. Come in," he said.

Eleanor took a deep breath and sat on the edge of the sofa.

"Your father was the most renowned expert at the hospital, an academician. I trusted him completely," Ian said, his voice heavy with the memory. "He and the specialists I brought in from overseas formed a dedicated team for my father. They managed to extend his life by a year, but then other serious complications arose. The situation was incredibly complex, and even surgery had a low chance of success."

Eleanor remembered that time well. Her father and his team had held endless meetings, working tirelessly on treatment plans. She recalled him coming home so exhausted he would fall asleep without even changing his clothes.

Ian's gaze dropped to the floor, as if he were reliving that oppressive time. "I was practically living at the hospital. The company was in crisis, and my father's condition was deteriorating daily. Just when I thought I couldn't take it anymore…" He looked up, his eyes locking on Eleanor's. "I met you."

Eleanor had been listening intently to the story about her father, but his last words made her frown. "Get to the point."