My CEO Ex: Let Me Go.-Chapter 80

Alexander tilted his head, his expression unreadable. He touched his sore left cheek, where I had slapped him, and muttered, “Fine, I’m leaving... I’m leaving...”

I stood there, momentarily frozen.

I hadn’t meant to slap him, but in my panic, I had struck him.

Alexander staggered back a few steps, then turned and walked out of the room.

The assistant, just realizing what had happened, watched Alexander make his way to the elevator. He paused, looking at Alexander’s retreating figure, then glanced back at me, uncertain.

It seemed Alexander felt a bit aggrieved when he left.

When he saw me looking at him, the assistant hurriedly explained, “Director Vivienne, it was CEO Hawthorne who called me for the hotel address. He asked me to knock on your door. I couldn’t refuse him.”

I nodded slightly and let out a breath. “I understand. You can go and rest now.”

“Okay.”

After the assistant left, I closed the door behind him, but I no longer had the energy or inclination to watch my soap opera.

I didn’t want to think about what had happened last night.

But Alexander had to come and remind me—remind me of how he had ignored the humiliation I suffered at the hands of his friends, how he had abandoned me for Isabella.

The absurdity of it all—he still wanted to explain himself, even coming all the way to B City to do so.

What could he possibly explain? That he was worried about Isabella and had to check on her in person?

But I wanted his concern, his care, too.

Yet he didn’t give it to me. He chose to leave her behind and walk away.

I muttered, “Alexander, if you step out that door today, it’s over between us.”

But even after hearing my words, he still chose to leave.

What was there left to explain?

His actions and attitude had already said everything that needed to be said.

Alexander’s POV

After leaving the hotel, I returned to Virellia City that same night and resumed work, just like I always did.

I forced myself not to think about Vivienne.

But the more I tried, the more I failed.

Every time I closed my eyes, her face would appear in my mind—happy, smug, angry, sorrowful—so many different expressions, lingering in my thoughts, impossible to shake.

Or I would recall that night of our wedding anniversary, the look of despair in her eyes.

For the past two nights, I dreamt about Vivienne.

The first dream was of our divorce. Vivienne hated me so deeply that it seemed to burn in her bones. She left for another country, never to return.

The second dream was the same. We were divorced, and Vivienne had married Julian. At her wedding, she wore a radiant smile, full of happiness.

I woke up from those dreams, unable to fall back asleep in the middle of the night.

I didn’t even realize how much Vivienne had come to affect me.

During the day, I tried to stay focused on work, but it was impossible to concentrate.

This was tormenting Jane and the other senior staff.

For the past two days, I’d been like a ticking time bomb, snapping at everyone I came across.

One employee in the secretary department made a small mistake, and I tore into them as if they’d betrayed the entire company.

When that employee walked out of the CEO’s office, they looked like they’d just seen a ghost.

Normally, as a CEO, I was known for my decisiveness and strong leadership. I was calm and approachable, with a sharp eye for business and a ruthless streak when necessary.

I rarely made a habit of picking on my employees.

I focused on the present and the future, not dwelling on the past. After an employee made a mistake, even if they were innocent, what mattered was their corrective action. A good remedy often meant a light punishment, a lesson learned.

Employees at Vanguard Global Enterprises typically had a high satisfaction rate with their jobs.

But for the past few days, I felt like a completely different person.

The atmosphere in the company was tense, especially for those who interacted with me often. Everyone was walking on eggshells, afraid they might be next to feel my wrath.

Jane entered, as usual, to back up my call records and recordings. She knew many of my secrets because of her role.

I handed her my phone.

“I’ll back it up now and bring it to you shortly,” she said.

Jane left the office, heading to her desk to do the backup.

I gave a brief response, my eyes fixed on the computer screen, my fingers flying over the keyboard.

Suddenly, the Bluetooth speaker next to me began to speak.

“Hello, CEO Hawthorne. This is Xavier from Lynix Motors. About the electric vehicle project you mentioned earlier...”

I frowned and glanced at the Bluetooth speaker.

The recording playing was from the phone conversation I had with Xavier earlier.

It seemed my phone had been connected to the office Bluetooth speaker all along, and Jane must have accidentally hit play while backing up.

Leaning back in my chair, I rubbed my forehead.

The office was filled with Xavier’s boisterous laughter.

I stood up, about to turn off the speaker, but just as the recording ended, it automatically switched to the next one.

“Hello.” It was Isabella’s voice.

“It’s me. Where’s Alexander?” This was Vivienne’s voice.

My hand, which was about to press the power button, hesitated, and I allowed the recording to continue.

“It’s Vivienne. Alexander’s cooking for me right now,” Isabella said. “Vivienne, you wouldn’t know this, but Alexander’s actually a great cook. When he was in college, he lived on his own, and he picked up cooking. He’d often make meals for me.”

A frown tugged at my brow.

Isabella’s tone was dripping with pride, and it made me uneasy—almost unbelievable that these words were coming from her.

"Give the phone to Alexander. I need to ask him something."

"What is it? I can ask him for you," Isabella said, her tone teasing.

"Give the phone to Alexander! I need to ask him myself!" Vivienne’s voice grew more insistent. "This phone has automatic recording. If you don’t want me to play it for Alexander, hand it over."

I couldn’t help but smile. Vivienne was actually pretty clever.

There followed a long silence, the kind that happens when someone thinks the recording is over. Then a voice filtered through.

"Alexander, Vivienne’s calling for you."

"You hold it. I don’t have a free hand. Did she say anything important?" This was my own voice.

I immediately recognized when and where this call had taken place. It was the day Vivienne had the car accident, in the hospital, when I’d asked her what she wanted to eat and she’d said she wanted a meal I made.

So, that’s what this was.

"I asked her, but she wouldn’t say."

I spoke up. "Vivienne, what is it?"

"Alexander, where’s my phone?"

"It’s with me."

...

"Alright then. When will you be back?"

"Not sure. Depends on the situation."

The recording ended and switched to the next one.

I turned off the speaker, my mind replaying Isabella’s words from that recording.

Had she really said that?

Was this how Isabella spoke to Vivienne behind his back?

I lowered my gaze.

The Status Update incident flashed through my mind.

And then the burn incident.

What if Isabella was truly two-faced behind the scenes?