One year later.

October, Stockholm.

The early morning sunlight spilled through the gap in the hotel curtains, casting golden patches on the floor. Eleanor stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, taking in the city view. Her heart was beating inexplicably fast.

From behind, a pair of strong hands wrapped around her waist.

"Can't sleep?" lan's voice was husky with sleep as he rested his chin on her shoulder.

Eleanor leaned back against his solid chest and let out a soft murmur of agreement.

He pressed a gentle kiss to her neck. "Nervous?"

Eleanor thought about it, then nodded. "A little."

He turned her around to face him. In the morning light, his eyes were incredibly bright.

"No matter the results today, in my heart, you've already won," he said.

Looking up at him, a wave of warmth flooded Eleanor's chest.

Over the past year, he had been by her side through everything. Every single step of the way, he was there.

"Thank you," Eleanor said softly.

"Thanking who?"

"You!"

"And who am I to you?"

Eleanor paused.

She wasn't the type of woman who constantly used pet names. Even when they were first married, she rarely called him her husband out loud. It just wasn't something she was used to.

But clearly, a certain someone was dying to hear it.

Eleanor lowered her head with a shy smile. "My husband."

"I love it when you call me that." lan gave her a rewarding kiss on the lips, chuckling softly. "You don't need to thank me. Come on, let's get ready."

***

The Nobel Prize Ceremony was held at the Stockholm Concert Hall.

Eleanor wore a custom midnight-blue evening gown, her hair swept up elegantly to expose the graceful line of her neck. Dressed in a sharp black tuxedo, lan stood by her side, his gaze following her every move.

Taking a deep breath, Eleanor suddenly realized she wasn't nervous anymore. Just being able to stand in this hall was already a dream come true for her.

The concert hall was packed to the brim, filled with scientists, dignitaries, and royalty from all over the world.

Eleanor sat in the front row, with lan right beside her.

When the presenter announced the Nobel Prize in Medicine, Eleanor's heart still skipped a beat.

"...awarded to Dr. Sutton from Neoterra, in recognition of her breakthrough

discoveries in the treatment of neurodegenerative diseases, as well as her outstanding contributions to the clinical application of neural interface technology."

Thunderous applause erupted throughout the hall.

Eleanor froze in disbelief. Ian gently patted her shoulder. "Darling, it's you."

Eleanor stood up, glancing at him before walking toward the stage with effortless grace.

The moment she accepted the Nobel Prize medal from the King, her eyes swept over the audience.

lan was standing there, applauding. His eyes shone with unfiltered pride and adoration.

Eleanor smiled.

***

After the ceremony, they returned to their hotel suite.

Sitting on the sofa, Eleanor stared at the Nobel Prize medal in her hands, still feeling a bit dazed.

"You won it. You deserve this," lan said, sitting next to her and pulling her into a warm embrace.

Leaning against him, Eleanor suddenly looked up. "I couldn't have done this without you."

lan's eyes crinkled in amusement. "You mean because I poured millions of dollars into your research? I did that willingly. If anything, I wish I could have invested more."

Eleanor laughed. "Weren't you afraid of going bankrupt?"

"Why would be? I have a Nobel

laureate for a wife. She'll take care of me Tan lowered his head capturing

her red lips in a searing kiss. Will you take care of me, darling?"

Closing her eyes, Eleanor leaned into the kiss. "Yes... I'll take care of you."

The night was long and filled with a burning, intoxicating heat.

Outside the window, the Stockholm sky was dusted with a million stars.

***

The news of Eleanor's victory dominated global headlines.

Over in Drexford.

Inside a wealthy estate, a woman carrying her bag walked down the stairs from the piano room, preparing to say goodbye to the lady of the house.

She found the hostess sitting on the sofa, watching the news. At that exact moment, the broadcast was replaying the Nobel Prize Ceremony.

Vanessa Shannon's grip on her handbag tightened violently. Her feet were rooted to the spot, her eyes glued to the television screen.

On the screen, the woman in the midnight-blue gown was accepting her medal, radiating a calm, elegant confidence. The camera panned to the audience focusing on the man standing to applaud her spride and deep affection were entirely undisguised.

It was lan Goodwin.

And Eleanor Sutton.

Vanessa gripped her bag so hard her knuckles turned a sickly pale white.

Staring at the screen, her chest heaved heavily.

The woman she thought would

never, ever compare to her was now standing at the absolute pinnacle of the world. And the man she had desperately schemed to claim was standing right beside her rival looking at Eleanor with a devotion Vanessa had never once received.

And what about her?

She had been reduced to scratching out a living as a pathetic, private piano teacher

in a small town in Drexford.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, but a suffocating wave of despair and rage made it impossible to calm down.