My CEO Ex: Let Me Go.-Chapter 65

Could it be that Isabella’s so-called illness was actually caused by this?

"No, I can’t... I can’t."

Isabella’s voice cracked as she sobbed, her cries heart-wrenching. "Every time I close my eyes, I see that scene. I can’t forget it. I kept calling your name, hoping more than anything that you’d come to save me..."

Alexander didn’t respond.

I stood in the corner, too afraid to step forward.

Outside, a loud “bang” echoed, followed by the sound of a car door slamming shut, cutting off her crying.

I clasped my hands together, tightening my grip slightly, then turned to glance outside. A black Porsche was leaving the underground garage.

I looked at my phone screen and let out a deep sigh. It felt like the dust had finally settled.

I had expected that Alexander would give in to Isabella.

I wasn’t disappointed—I hadn’t hoped for much—but I did feel a little lost, a little melancholic.

It felt inevitable.

I loved him, but I no longer dared to expect anything from him.

I took the elevator down to the first floor and grabbed a taxi home.

On the way, Alexander’s message popped up:

"Sorry, Vivienne. I’ve got something to take care of and need to leave early."

"Mm, I’ll head home on my own," I replied.

"Wait for me for dinner when I get back."

"Got it."

I acknowledged his message, but honestly, I didn’t take it seriously.

Thinking back on all the times Isabella had called him away, how many of those ended with him staying out all night?

If he came back before dinner, it would truly be a miracle.

It could only mean one thing: Isabella’s influence had faded.

I was a bit worn out after several busy days, so when I got home, I went straight upstairs to take a bath.

While soaking, I scrolled through Twitter and other platforms. There was a lot of buzz about the press conference.

The most talked-about topic, of course, was Alexander and Isabella.

It seemed all but confirmed that they were a couple.

There were fans, haters, bystanders, and OTP shippers all chiming in, and many arguments were breaking out in the comments and videos.

But after the press conference, Vivienne’s reputation had been “cleared up.”

After the trending topics, my background was also dug up.

Eager fans discovered that my father was none other than the famous journalist Maxwell Sinclair.

It had been ten years since Maxwell Sinclair passed away, and most young people today didn’t know him.

But once you mentioned the food additive case, everyone knew.

More than a decade ago, when the internet wasn’t as widespread, the food additive case went viral, breaking a billion reads, with newspapers printing extra copies.

The person at the center of the case, a certain food brand executive, was sentenced to life imprisonment.

Before that, Maxwell Sinclair had covered many other sensational cases, though his colleagues often considered them thankless tasks.

After the food additive scandal, Maxwell became a household name, and his entire career was brought to light, earning him widespread admiration.

When Maxwell Sinclair died in a car accident, the public mourned his passing, and his memorial service was packed, with media coverage as well.

But after over a decade, the news had mostly faded, with only a few blurry pictures from the memorial left.

At the time, Maxwell Sinclair’s daughter, still in high school, was heartbroken, but once the hype died down, no one paid attention anymore.

There were some mentions in the media that Maxwell Sinclair’s daughter had been adopted and would continue her studies.

It turns out Vivienne Sinclair was Maxwell Sinclair’s daughter, adopted by The Hawthorne Dynasty after her father’s death.

With such a respected father, my reputation naturally improved.

Furthermore, after the press conference, most people came to believe that the rumors about me being the "Mistress" were just fabrications by the media.

Otherwise, how could the three of them stand so calmly on the same stage?

Just look at Isabella’s speech on stage, where she said she’d known Vivienne for a long time, speaking to me as if I were her younger sister.

Would someone with the "Mistress" label be spoken to like that?

Still, Isabella’s fans weren’t about to let me off the hook.

During the photo op, Isabella nearly tripped on her dress.

The director caught the moment on camera, and after Alexander helped her stand, Isabella shot me a glance.

Fans couldn’t tell who had stepped on the dress, but Isabella knew.

And that look was enough for her fans to blame me for it.

My Twitter account was flooded with new comments, but thankfully, my private messages were still closed, or I would’ve gone viral again.

But the comments didn’t bother me. I glanced at a few, then closed Twitter and set my phone down.

Whether they praised or cursed me, it didn’t matter—it was all just traffic.

A knock echoed from outside my room. "Miss Vivienne, dinner is ready."

"Okay, I’m coming."

I responded, getting out of the bathtub, quickly slipping into some casual clothes, and heading downstairs for dinner.

"Miss Vivienne, will Mr. Alexander be back for dinner tonight? Should I prepare something for him?"

"He probably won’t be back. Don’t bother saving him any," I said casually.

"Understood."

After dinner, I went back upstairs while Gabriella cleaned up the dishes.

Once the kitchen was tidy, Gabriella emerged, just as Alexander walked in from outside.

He loosened his collar and asked, "Is it time for dinner?"

Gabriella froze. "Mr. Alexander, you’re back? Miss Vivienne said you wouldn’t be home tonight, so I didn’t save you any dinner... I’ll make something for you right away..."

Alexander: "...?"

"Alright." His gaze darkened as he turned and went upstairs to the master bedroom.

I hadn’t worked late tonight, so I was already lying in bed, scrolling through my phone.

Suddenly, the door swung open, and Alexander strode in.

I blinked in surprise. "Why are you back now?"

Alexander stopped by the bed, watching my stunned expression, and smirked. "Didn’t I tell you I’d be back for dinner?"

"Oh." I remained calm. "You usually stay out the whole night, so I assumed you wouldn’t be home tonight."

Alexander’s lips twitched, and he pressed them together. "You saw?"

"Mm."

"I took her to the hospital and came straight back." Seeing my calm demeanor, Alexander immediately explained.

For some reason, discomfort stirred within him.

Whenever he had been with Isabella in the past, I would always act distant afterward, cold as ice, as if I’d been struck by a bullet.

But now, I seemed completely unfazed, like nothing had happened.

Even today’s press conference.

When we played that needle-threading game together, he hadn’t thought much of it.

But afterward, when I set up another game for him and Isabella, he couldn’t shake the irritation creeping up inside him.

Vivienne was so generous, creating intimate moments for her husband and mistress.

But the truth was, Vivienne didn’t love him.

Vivienne loved Julian.

"Oh." I replied indifferently.

I wouldn’t congratulate myself for being forgiving just because he went straight back after taking Isabella to the hospital tonight.

It didn’t matter to me.

Unless he outright rejected Isabella.

"Vivienne." Alexander called my name.

I looked up from my phone and met his gaze. "Is there something else?"