Please Let Me Go, My Contracted Ex-Husband.-Chapter 144 - -battlefield

After breakfast, his mood softened a little. He sat on the sofa, leisurely reading the newspaper. As for her, she couldn't remain calm. Her mind was preoccupied with the job offer Vincent had mentioned, which made her feel increasingly anxious.

Sitting in the far corner of the large sofa, she aimlessly flipped through the TV channels. She changed from one channel to another, then back again, and after a while, she couldn't take it anymore and leaned forward to ask,

"Albert Wilson, are you going out today?"

He looked up from the newspaper, smiling at her gently, as harmless as ever.

"Why? You want to go out? I can give you a ride, I don't have anything to do at home anyway."

Behind that gentle smile, however, was a hidden frustration, his teeth gritting with annoyance: *Woman, I'm really curious to see what kind of tricks you're up to!*

He asked so enthusiastically, but Cynthia was startled, quickly waving her hand,

"No, no, it's fine, I'm not going anywhere..."

"Oh..."

He gave her a thoughtful look before turning his attention back to the newspaper. Cynthia shrank back into her corner, tilting her head as she watched the TV, her mind calculating how to come up with an excuse to leave later.

Just before noon, his phone suddenly rang. She quickly looked up at him with eager anticipation, only to see him frown as he grabbed the phone and walked out.

Could it be something happened at the company? If so, that would be perfect, because he'd have to go back to work, and she would finally be free.

She probably was the only woman in the world who secretly hoped her husband's company would have a problem!

Sure enough, not long after, he hung up the phone and walked back in, his expression slightly grim as he grabbed his car keys and said to her,

"The company has some issues. I need to go there for a bit. Stay home and don't run around!"

Cynthia tried hard to hide the gleam in her eyes, then casually replied, "Okay!"

As soon as he left, she rushed to her closet, quickly throwing on a random outfit before heading out.

Fredy, though feeling awkward, tried to stop her. But seeing her so bright and cheerful, he didn't have the heart to refuse. He could only tell her to come back early.

She had arranged to meet Vincent at a cozy little restaurant near her school—quiet, discreet, affordable, and a place they used to frequent together.

The source of this c𝐨ntent is freeweɓnovēl.coɱ.

Just as the two of them sat down at their table, the wind chimes at the door rang crisply, seemingly announcing the arrival of a new guest. Cynthia, bored and absent-minded, looked up at the customer—only to be startled out of her wits.

Wh-What was he doing here? Didn't he say something came up at the company? Why was he suddenly here? Her face paled instantly, and she cautiously prayed that he wouldn't notice her.

Then she thought to herself—she and Vincent weren't doing anything wrong. They were just meeting up and chatting. Why did she feel so guilty? The only reason she was avoiding him was because she didn't want him to know her true identity—nothing more.

However, the more she prayed, the more his gaze seemed to move in her direction. Even though her head was lowered, she could almost feel his gaze hovering above her, cold and sharp.

Vincent naturally noticed her discomfort. As soon as he turned around, he met the man's distant smile. A brief, awkward moment flashed across his face before he quickly replaced it with a polite smile. Though he was reluctant, he still stood up out of courtesy and greeted the man,

"Vice President Wilson, it's a pleasure to meet you!"

Albert Wilson, with a detached smile, walked over. After exchanging pleasantries with Vincent, he finally shifted his gaze back to Cynthia, who had been keeping her head down the whole time.

"Hmm? Darling, what are you doing here? Didn't I tell you to stay at home and not run around?"

He unceremoniously plopped down beside her and affectionately pulled her into his embrace.

"Hehe..."

Cynthia felt even more embarrassed by his words and could only awkwardly look up at him with a dry smile.

But why did it feel like he had followed her here?

"We were just about to order. Since Vice President Wilson is here, why don't we all eat together?" Vincent said as he sat down and handed the menu to her.

Cynthia was about to stop him, but the man had already grabbed the menu without hesitation and, with a narrowed gaze, elegantly ordered a variety of dishes. While they waited for the food, he tilted his head and asked her,

"What did you and the prosecutor talk about?"

Cynthia, slightly embarrassed, glanced at Vincent and then tried to dodge the question, giving a vague answer to the man,

"Vince said he wants to help me find a job..."

"Oh? What kind of job?"

He continued to press her relentlessly with questions.

Cynthia didn't know how to respond, so she helplessly glanced at Vincent. Just a quick look, and Vincent understood. It seemed she hadn't yet let Albert Wilson know about her true identity.

So he lightly chuckled and, at the right moment, intervened to stop the man's relentless questioning.

"The exact job hasn't been decided yet. I asked Cynthia out today to hear her thoughts on it!" he said, casually.

"Oh? Is that so?"

Albert Wilson didn't even glance at Vincent. His gaze remained fixed on her face, and a hint of displeasure began to surface in his eyes. He hadn't missed the exchanged glances between her and Vincent just now.

His intuition told him that things weren't as simple as Vincent had made them sound. Earlier at home, he had used the excuse that something came up at the company, and he hadn't expected her to follow right after. What was even more upsetting was that she had left in such a cheerful mood, smiling like a butterfly in full bloom.

Cynthia, seeing that Vincent had covered for her, quickly went along with it.

"Yeah, with graduation coming up soon..." she said.

Albert Wilson smiled without speaking, but he raised his hand to gently lift her chin, exposing the bruise on her jaw clearly to Vincent's view. In the moment Vincent's eyes filled with pain, he lovingly kissed the corner of her mouth.

"Isn't my salary enough for you? Why go through all this trouble to work so hard?"

Cynthia awkwardly swatted his hand away and spoke sharply in response.

"Your money is yours. I want to go out and work for myself, to be independent!"

She had never considered depending on a man to support her. Though some might see that kind of life as comfortable and easy, to her, it was just a waste of the prime years of her life.

The most important thing was that, despite being small and ordinary, she wanted to use her own hands to help those in need. That was also why she had decided to study medicine under Marc.

Albert Wilson's face immediately darkened at her blunt rejection. The atmosphere became tense, but just then, the waiter arrived with the soup they had ordered, which eased the situation a bit.

He picked up a spoon and served her a bowl of soup. After all, she was a woman, and in front of others, he didn't want to cause a scene, especially not in front of her first love.

However, just as he placed the soup in front of her, Vincent spoke up in a calm tone.

"Cynthia doesn't like to eat things that are too hot. You should let it cool down before serving it to her."

Albert Wilson froze, his hand still outstretched. The charming look on his face was replaced by awkwardness, followed by a faint flicker of anger.