Please Let Me Go, My Contracted Ex-Husband.-Chapter 136 - - so freely

This was driving her crazy! She regretted moving here under his oppressive authority in the first place. Now everything was becoming more and more complicated! The more she thought about it, the more overwhelmed she felt. Finally, she reluctantly told Victoria:

"Victoria, I might not be able to make it over for the next few days. You and Gary handle things for now. I'll call you when I have time!"

As soon as she sat back down, she was met with his disapproving gaze. Feeling awkward, she let out two sheepish laughs and lowered her head to eat. But just after a couple of bites, her phone rang again, nearly making her choke.

She had no idea what was going on today. Normally, no one contacted her, yet suddenly her phone was buzzing non-stop. This time, she didn't even dare look at him. Hastily saying sorry, she rushed out to answer the call.

It was Bonnie this time, complaining about how bored she was at home and asking her to go shopping. The thought of being alone with him later made her anxious, so she quickly agreed to Bonnie's invitation.

When she returned to her seat, someone wasn't willing to tolerate it any longer. Albert Wilson unceremoniously stretched out his long arm, grabbed her phone, turned it off, and tossed it back—all in one swift, fluid motion.

Albert Wilson was practically fuming. It was rare for the two of them to peacefully sit down and have breakfast together, and yet she kept answering calls endlessly? He was a company president and wasn't even this busy. How was a broke student like her taking two calls in five minutes?

He couldn't help but suspect that she was deliberately messing with him!

With the phone off, peace finally returned. Cynthia chuckled inwardly at his frustrated expression. She figured no one else was likely to call her anyway—there were only a handful of people she ever stayed in touch with.

After breakfast, she hurried upstairs. Inside the luxurious walk-in closet, rows upon rows of cabinets were filled with an array of men's clothing. Her few pieces, however, hung in an inconspicuous corner, looking downright shabby in comparison to the sea of luxury goods.

As she stood there debating which outfit to wear, he walked in. His model-like, perfectly proportioned figure leaned lazily against the doorframe.

"Heading out?"

"Yeah, going shopping with Laurence," she replied, reaching for her long black down coat. It had just snowed, and it would definitely be cold outside, so she figured dressing warmly was the best option.

He glanced at her meager collection of clothes, his thick eyebrows knitting together slightly. She didn't notice and slipped on her coat, preparing to leave. Just as she was about to pass him, he grabbed her hand. Confused, she looked up at him.

He pulled out his wallet, took out a bank card, and handed it to her lazily, saying,

"Go buy yourself some new clothes."

Sigh. She was, after all, Albert Wilson's woman. How could her wardrobe be so pitiful? He was well aware of the tight and frugal life she had been living.

He couldn't understand what the hell she was being so stubborn about. She was his rightful wife, yet she had never once asked him for a single penny. Worse, she had even worked in that kind of place to earn money. It made him feel like a complete failure.

So, this time, no matter what, he was going to make her spend his money and change things up!

"Huh?"

She blinked in confusion. Why was he suddenly asking her to buy clothes? It wasn't like she didn't have anything to wear. She tried to hand the card back.

"There's no need. I have clothes to wear..."

"You call this clothes?"

He looked at her with undisguised disdain and pinched her down coat between his fingers.

"Go buy some new ones. From head to toe, inside and out, replace everything!"

"Are you kidding me?"

‌‌Cynthia glanced down at the bank card in her hand. The silver matte background shimmered with the bold, golden letters "VIP." Her eyes shifted downward, noticing his warm, strong fingers.

"Remember, it's from the 'inside' to the 'outside'—"

He elongated the words, his smile full of mischief as he leaned closer, his breath brushing against her ear. Seizing the moment, he firmly closed her hand around the card with his broad palm.

"Albert Wilson, you're so shameless!"

‌‌Cynthia's face flushed red with embarrassment as she spat at him in annoyance. Of course, she knew exactly what he meant by "inside to outside!"

He only chuckled in a low, amused voice and turned to leave. Furious, she called after him,

"Hey, Albert Wilson, take your card back!"

He walked leisurely down the corridor while she huffed and puffed, chasing after him.

"I don't need your money! I don't think there's anything wrong with what I'm wearing now—ah!"

Before she could finish, he suddenly stopped in his tracks. Unable to react in time, she ran straight into his chest.

He lowered his head to look at her, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. His deep voice was laced with teasing humor.

"Darling, are you in such a hurry to throw yourself into my arms? What's your plan?"

He seized the opportunity to wrap an arm around her, pressing her against the wall as a mischievous grin spread across his face.

"What's this? Were you hoping I'd go shopping with you? Perfect timing—I've got nothing to do, and I'd be more than happy to assist a beauty like you!"

‌‌Cynthia's eyes widened in alarm, and she shook her head vehemently.

"No, no, absolutely not—"

Oh, heavens! The last thing she wanted was to go shopping with him. With his striking looks and that dangerously seductive aura, she'd be drowning in jealous stares and gossiping whispers from women all around. She didn't need that kind of trouble in her life.

Seeing his scheme succeed, he planted a light kiss at the corner of her lips before clasping her hand firmly around the card once more.

"Good girl. Now, take the card and go buy something nice for yourself."

‌‌Cynthia eventually gave in. Between letting him tag along and spending his money on her own, she reluctantly chose the latter.

Bonnie had already been waiting at the entrance of the mall. Both women, though aimless, were lost in their own thoughts. They decided to start by sitting in a café and catching up.

‌‌Cynthia, curious, asked Bonnie, "Weren't you spending the New Year at your dad's place? How are you out so freely?"

From what ‌‌Cynthia knew, Bonnie might not usually be welcomed into the Laurence family's inner circle, but during the New Year, she always made it a point to visit. This was a tradition Robin Laurence insisted on, despite his wife's evident disapproval.

However, every year, Bonnie spent those days treading on eggshells, terrified of making a misstep. She would even switch off her phone and cut off contact with her friends to avoid any unnecessary trouble that might upset Robin Laurence's wife, who seemed intent on finding reasons to give Bonnie a hard time.

Bonnie let out a weary sigh.

"Ugh, don't even get me started. On the first day of the New Year, my dad took my stepmom to Europe to visit some friends. Laurence's precious flower, Dorothea, jetted off to Hawaii with her classmates. That left just me and my brother at home, staring at each other all day. It was so boring!"

As Bonnie spoke, a fleeting look of frustration crossed her face, but ‌‌Cynthia caught it.

"Bonnie," ‌‌Cynthia asked with concern, "you look like something's bothering you. Is everything alright?"

Bonnie grew even more frustrated as she recalled the embarrassing incident from the night before. She had been taking a shower when the power suddenly went out. Terrified, she let out a shriek and instinctively sought refuge in the arms of Carl Laurence, who had burst into the bathroom to check on her. The problem was, in her panic, she had been completely naked.

"Um... well, I..."

Bonnie downed the rest of her coffee in one gulp and slammed the cup onto the table. She hesitated for a long time before sighing deeply.

"Forget it, I don't want to talk about it!"

The memory left her feeling mortified. Ever since it happened, she had been avoiding Carl at home, unable to look him in the eye. Even though he had behaved like a gentleman by quickly grabbing a towel to cover her, and even though it had been pitch dark so he couldn't have seen anything, the situation still made her squirm with embarrassment.

Desperate for an outlet, she had called ‌‌Cynthia to meet up and chat, thinking it would help her sort through her feelings. But now, sitting across from her friend, Bonnie realized she had no idea how to broach such an awkward topic.

How could she even begin to explain the mortifying tension that had settled between her and her "brother"? How could she talk about this kind of embarrassment with anyone?

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