No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 971

971 /973

Around three in the afternoon, Serena dressed up and headed out. She was waiting in a coffee shop when, a short while later, Vanessa arrived, elegant as always.

Watching her, Serena was struck by how glaringly artificial she seemed. Vanessa meticulously cultivated her public persona as a successful concert pianist, a self-made woman who had achieved everything through her own hard work, without relying on anyone's help.

But the truth was a different story. Every drop of her blood had been sold to Serena's brother for an exorbitant price. From the very beginning, she had set her sights on becoming Mrs. Goodwin, viewing the entire Goodwin family as nothing more than a tool to unscrupulously achieve her goals.

Vanessa glided to the table and sat down, her face fixed with her usual gentle smile. "Serena, have you been waiting long? The traffic was a bit heavy."

She waved over a waiter like she owned the place, clearly used to being treated as a VIP.

Serena quietly watched her performance.

When Vanessa looked up and saw Serena staring at her, a knot of anxiety tightened in her chest. "Serena, I have to apologize. I kept this from you for so long, but it wasn't my intention. Your brother asked me not to say anything."

"I know. My brother's the type to carry every burden himself," Serena said with a dismissive purse of her lips. "Does he think it makes him look cool? It's infuriating. He only just now told me about our mother's illness."

"Your brother has his reasons. Please don't blame him," Vanessa said, playing the part of the caring older sister, making it seem as if she was always looking out for Ian and Serena's best interests.

Serena used to fall for this act, believing Vanessa was the gentle, kind, idealized love of her brother's life, someone who always put him first.

"Vanessa, let me ask you something practical, and I want you to be honest with me." Serena folded her hands on the table, leaning forward slightly. "After you and my brother met, exactly how much money has he given you?"

Vanessa's hand paused, the spoon clinking against her cup. Her smile turned a little stiff. "Ian… did provide me with some necessary support and assistance." Her eyes darted nervously as she spoke. "It was mainly to help me focus on my studies without any worries. You know how difficult the path of an artist can be. He didn't give me cash; it was all through a foundation—and as you know, I've never been short on money."