My CEO Ex: Let Me Go.-Chapter 35

I had no choice but to put on my clothes, get in the car, and head toward the address Maximus had given me. The familiar route made it easy to walk into the private room and push the door open.

On the couch sat two people: Maximus and Alexander.

Maximus was lounging against the back of the sofa, holding a cigarette. Alexander, with his eyes closed, held a half-empty glass of wine, leaning back against the sofa, his expression calm.

At the sound of the door opening, Alexander slowly opened his eyes, only to immediately shut them again.

There were several bottles of alcohol scattered around the floor.

I frowned and quietly asked Maximus, “Did he drink all of these?”

Maximus nodded seriously. “Yeah, he drank them all.”

I glanced at Alexander, unable to stop myself from calling out, “Alexander.”

I walked over and gently took the glass from his hand, placing it on the table. 𝘧𝓇ℯ𝑒𝓌𝑒𝑏𝓃𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭.𝒸ℴ𝓂

Alexander opened his eyes and looked directly at me with a deep, unwavering gaze. His eyes sent a shiver through me, and I couldn’t tell if he was drunk or sober.

I cleared my throat, trying to stay calm. “It’s late. Let’s go home and rest.”

Alexander rubbed his forehead and stood up, swaying slightly.

I quickly moved to support him. “Can you walk?”

“I can,” he answered in a deep, hoarse voice, brushing my hand away as he stumbled forward.

I walked behind him, glancing back to say goodbye to Maximus. “Goodbye, and thanks for tonight, Maximus.”

I stayed close to Alexander, always watching his steps, afraid he might fall.

As we walked, I could clearly smell the strong scent of alcohol on him. It seemed like he had drunk quite a bit.

Even in this state, he still managed to press the button for the -1 floor in the elevator.

When we reached the garage, I walked ahead and turned back to say, “The car is this way.”

Alexander’s intense gaze followed me, his steps slow as he trailed behind.

I expertly opened the driver’s side door, fastened my seatbelt, then turned to Alexander in the backseat. “If you’re tired, you can sleep for a bit.”

“Mm,” he murmured softly, leaning back in his seat and closing his eyes.

I started the car and drove toward the villa.

After parking, I glanced at Alexander in the rearview mirror, but he didn’t respond.

I turned on the interior lights and looked back, seeing him still leaning against the seat, eyes closed, breathing steady.

He had actually fallen asleep.

I stared at his sleeping face, his sculpted features and tightly closed eyes giving me an unfamiliar feeling. The shadow cast by his brow only added to the intensity.

I wondered what he was dreaming about, as his brows slightly furrowed.

I leaned back in my seat, feeling helpless. I couldn’t move him by myself, so I had no choice but to wake him up.

I unbuckled my seatbelt, stepped out of the car, and opened the back door. Bending down, I gently tapped his shoulder. “Wake up, Alexander, we’re home.”

He groggily opened his eyes, and I spoke softly, “We’re home. Go rest now.”

He rubbed his eyes and nodded.

We both went upstairs, and seeing that he was still somewhat aware, I didn’t try to assist him further, heading straight for my room. Just as I was about to close the door, I suddenly saw Alexander following me in.

He squinted his eyes, bypassed me, and lay down on the bed, immediately closing his eyes and falling into a deep sleep.

I shook my head helplessly, gently removing his shoes and socks before casually pulling the blanket over him.

As I got closer, the strong smell of alcohol hit me. I pinched my nose, stepping back. I planned to sleep in one of the guest rooms instead.

But just then, Alexander grabbed my wrist, still with his eyes closed, muttering something under his breath.

I struggled for a moment but couldn’t free myself. I leaned closer to his lips, trying to catch what he was saying.

“Wife...” His voice was low, almost like a whisper in his sleep.

A shock ran through me.

In the three years we’d been married, Alexander had never called me “wife.” He always called me “Vivienne” or “Vivi.”

I wasn’t the wife in his heart.

The woman he thought of as his wife was... Isabella Blackwood.

A wave of sadness hit me, and in the quiet of the night, I climbed out of bed and brought Alexander back home, only to hear him calling for Isabella in his sleep.

I shouldn’t have cared for him. I should have let him drink himself into oblivion outside.

I suddenly yanked my wrist out of his grasp, grabbed a new blanket in anger, and walked into another guest room.

Alexander’s POV

After Vivienne left, I continued to mumble softly, “Vivienne... my wife...”

In the stillness of the night, two topics suddenly surged to the top of the trending list, sparking widespread discussion among netizens.

The harsh sunlight filtered through the curtains, landing on my face. I lifted my hand to shield my eyes, groggily opening them.

My head throbbed painfully.

I closed my eyes again and massaged my forehead, trying to ease the ache. After a few moments, I sat up. Only then did I realize I wasn’t in the master bedroom but in Vivienne’s room.

Vivienne wasn’t in the room, and the other side of the bed was neatly made, clearly indicating no one had slept there.

I slipped on my shoes and left the room, heading to the master bedroom to freshen up.

After changing clothes, I went downstairs and patted my pockets, suddenly realizing that I hadn’t seen my phone.

I went back to Vivienne’s room and searched again, but still couldn’t find it.

I struggled to recall last night’s events and guessed that my phone might have been left in the car or in the VIP room.

I went downstairs to the car, and sure enough, I found the phone inside.

But it wasn’t mine—it was Vivienne’s.

Holding her phone, I walked into the living room, and as I did, the phone rang.

I glanced at the screen—“Assistant” was calling.

I answered, and immediately, the Assistant’s frantic voice came through. “Director Vivienne, you finally picked up! Quick, check the Trending Topics!”

I raised an eyebrow. “What’s going on with Trending Topics?”

The Assistant hesitated, then rushed to explain, “Uh... CEO Hawthorne, is that you? You need to see for yourself. You and Director Vivienne have been caught on camera.”

I ended the call, the Assistant’s words lingering in the air. She must’ve been sweating bullets on the other end, wondering how Vivienne’s phone had ended up in my hands. Could the rumors be true?

Vivienne’s phone had been locked with my birthday as the password before. I wasn’t sure if it was still the same, but I tried it anyway. Sure enough, it unlocked without a hitch.

The screen lit up with dozens of missed calls and notifications from various platforms.

I quickly cleared them all and opened Twitter, heading straight for the Trending Topics.

At the very top of the list, one entry stood out like a flashing red sign: “Alexander Cheating.”

I clicked on it. The first post was from an influencer: “A few days ago, Alexander and Isabella couldn’t keep their hands off each other. But today, he turns around and spends the night with another beauty. What do you all think?”

The post was accompanied by nine photos.

The first four were from when Vivienne and I had been watching the ballet at the grand theater. The photos had been taken from a side angle behind our seats, so my profile was clearly visible, but Vivienne’s was somewhat obscured.

The fifth image was a GIF of Vivienne and me leaving the theater together after the performance, me helping her carry her things.

The last four were screenshots from the Members-Only Club’s garage security cameras, showing that at 3 a.m., Vivienne and I got into the same car. I looked visibly drunk.

There was no footage of us spending the night together, but the images of us leaving the club together, both clearly intoxicated at 3 a.m., didn’t exactly scream “innocence.”

And just like that, the whole situation exploded on the internet.