No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 1130

With that, she ran to open the door, and Princess was the first to dash out. Sure enough, Ian's tall figure was standing outside.

Ian bent down to rub Princess's head, then caught his daughter as she threw herself at him.

His silver-white hair looked a bit messy in the morning light, and his eyes were clearly tired. He had barely slept all night, rushing back to Ashford City from Kingston just in time to take his daughter to school.

"Daddy, your eyes are so red!" Evelyn exclaimed, noticing her father's unusually red eyes.

Ian gently held her small hand. "Daddy worked very late last night."

Eleanor, standing at the door, also noticed Ian's exhaustion. "I'll take our daughter to school," she offered. "You should go home and rest."

"I'll come with you. I can rest at the lab later. I have an important meeting," Ian said, shaking his head.

Eleanor had no choice but to say, "I'll drive." He wasn't in any condition to drive.

"Alright," Ian didn't argue.

After dropping their daughter off at school, Eleanor drove toward the lab. At the first red light, she glanced in the rearview mirror to check the traffic behind them and saw that Ian, in the passenger seat, had fallen asleep at some point. His head was tilted slightly toward the window, his breathing even and deep.

He really had been exhausted lately—competing for the presidency of The Guild of Commerce, managing Goodwin & Co., and the research at the lab.

The light turned green, and Eleanor drove on smoothly. The car was quiet. With Ian asleep, Eleanor felt much more at ease than when he was awake.

Half an hour later, Eleanor's car pulled up in front of the lab. Just as she was about to wake Ian, she found that he was already awake. Although his eyes, framed by thick lashes, were still heavy with sleep, they had regained their usual clarity.

"We're here?" he asked, sitting up straight and rubbing his temples.

Ian's eyes were grave. "Research on brain-computer stimulation for patients in deep comas."

Eleanor frowned. "Why are we suddenly starting this project?"

Ian avoided her gaze. "Dr. Smith told me your current research is finished, and he's also an expert in developing medications. You've set the Neural Interface Project aside for too long, which is affecting the company's prospects. The board of directors is already very displeased."

The explanation was logical and reasonable, but Eleanor couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Why was Ian in such a hurry for her to return to the Neural Interface Project Team? And why had he specified this particular research direction?

"El, you can leave your experiment to me. I promise the follow-up research will meet your expectations," Dr. Smith said.

Eleanor, of course, trusted him. The medication plan was already complete, so the subsequent work wouldn't require much effort.

Eleanor looked at Ian, her brow furrowed as she studied him, trying to read something in his eyes. Ian met her gaze calmly, but in his deep eyes, apart from fatigue, she couldn't read any other thoughts.