Please Let Me Go, My Contracted Ex-Husband.-Chapter 186 - - Albert's blood!

When the name "Olive Wilson" left his lips, Cynthia couldn't stop herself from trembling. That surname, the one that once preceded her name, had been a nightmare buried deep in her heart.

She had often, in the quiet of midnight, gently caressed Olive's little face, whispering this name over and over in her mind: *Olive Wilson, Olive Wilson*. This was her true name, her true identity!

Albert noticed the dazed look in her eyes and a flash of something bright flickered in his dark gaze. He wasn't about to let her off that easily and pressed further, his tone even more insistent.

"Also, I think it's necessary for her to start calling me 'Dad.' I can't stand being called 'Uncle' every day. It makes me uncomfortable!"

"Albert, you—"

Cynthia shot up, her face full of shock.

He smiled elegantly, but the smile held an icy edge. Leaning in, he whispered through gritted teeth,

"Do you want me to show you the paternity test report? Cynthia, you really are something—going to such lengths to avoid me. Tell me, how should I punish you for that?"

His rough hand gently lifted her chin, and his sharp black eyes pierced through her, as if trying to read the deepest parts of her soul. His gaze was intense, cutting into her as though searching for every secret she harbored.

Cynthia felt a mix of unease from his words that seemed to strike a nerve and anger from his provocations. She angrily slapped his hand away.

"What right do you have to make her call you 'Dad'? Did you ever take responsibility for being a father in these four years?"

Albert's expression instantly darkened. He straightened up, irritated, and reached for a cigarette from his pocket, only to remember that, considering Olive's health, he hadn't been carrying them lately, trying to avoid his cravings.

After pacing for a while, he finally sat down beside her, his tone serious.

"Cynthia, I know I owe you both for these past four years, which is why I'm here, shamelessly trying to win you both back. I want to make it right, to make up for all that I missed and take care of you and Wilson properly."

"If it weren't because I still love you, why would I go this far?"

His words were tinged with self-mockery and bitterness.

"Why would I go to such lengths to take Olive back? Why would I let the whole world call me despicable, shameless, and heap all this scorn on me?"

His painful words echoed in her ears, and Cynthia couldn't help but acknowledge that they sounded heart-wrenching. But her own pain—who could truly understand that? So, she buried her head in her knees, muttering to him,

"Go away! Go away!"

Albert didn't press her further. He was determined to win her over, but no longer in a rush. Perhaps a prolonged battle suited his situation better now.

As he rose from the bed and turned to leave, he left her with one final remark.

"Cynthia, whether you admit it or not, Olive's blood will always flow with mine—Albert's blood!"

After he left, Cynthia sat in silence for a long time, burying her head, still struggling to accept the idea of Olive calling him "Dad," or to accept the reality that he wanted her back by his side.

By the time she was dressed and made her way downstairs, Albert was seriously discussing the "dad" issue with Olive in the living room. Olive, with all the innocence of a child, had a hundred questions.

"Why should I call you 'Dad'?"

Albert, feeling a bit of a headache, replied,

"Well... because I gave you life..."

Olive tilted her head in confusion.

"But, but Mommy said Hardy also gave me life?"

His handsome face turned from pale to flushed, a mix of emotions flashing across his features.

This content is taken from freёnovelkiss.com.

"These are two different kinds of life-giving!" he exclaimed.

Quinn had indeed saved her mother, indirectly giving life to the baby in her womb. But if it weren't for his struggles in the war-torn Syria, where would Quinn have had the chance to give life in the first place?

"Why are they different?" Olive persisted with her questions, her innocent curiosity on full display. But Albert was on the verge of losing it.

"Why are there so many 'whys' with you? I told you to call me 'Dad,' and that's final! If you don't, no amusement park for you!"

It was the first time he was completely driven mad by this little girl. Despite his frustration, Olive simply puffed out her cheeks and fell silent, still refusing to call him. Her little brows furrowed in defiance, looking exactly like her mother. Even though Albert was furious, he had no way to get through to her.

Cynthia, watching the scene unfold behind them, sighed softly. She then walked over and lifted Olive out of Albert's arms, heading toward the dining room.

"Olive, let's go have breakfast. After we eat, how about Mommy takes you to see Mommy's new house?"

Olive, hearing about the new house, immediately glanced back at the man sulking on the couch. She caught him giving her a series of subtle, pleading looks. Quietly, she murmured,

"Mommy, aren't we going to the amusement park today?"

Cynthia was puzzled,

"Amusement park? Why all of a sudden? Mommy still has a lot of things to do today..."

She had to go pick up the keys to the house from Bonnie, then tidy up and prepare some everyday necessities for the new place.

Olive pouted her lips in protest and clung to Cynthia's neck, loudly voicing her displeasure,

"But, Uncle said we'd go to the amusement park once Mommy comes back!"

Cynthia spun around and shot a glare at Albert, who was still sitting on the couch with a carefree smile on his face. Her irritation flared.

"Albert, how can you promise a child something so casually? Don't you know that if an adult can't deliver on their promises, the child will never trust you again? And worse, they'll learn to break promises themselves!"

Albert stood up from the sofa, walking over with a nonchalant stride.

"It's not impossible. Why wouldn't I be able to promise?"

He had already bought out the entire amusement park just so his precious daughter could enjoy it. That was how he was—with the people he loved, he would always be generous, even willing to give them everything to ensure their happiness.

Cynthia snapped back,

"I didn't agree to anything. How could you make decisions for me like that?"

Albert, feeling a mix of frustration and irritation, responded,

"Oh? Miss Lancaster, are you so busy that you can't even spare a day to take your child to the amusement park?"

His words hit Cynthia hard. She had no immediate response, because while she had been in Australia, she rarely took Olive to the amusement park. Not only was she often busy, but she also didn't want Quinn's people to be exposed to the public eye too much.

Cynthia felt a pang in her chest when Olive mentioned the photo. She froze for a moment, trying to piece together what the child could be referring to. Her mind raced back to the past—before the explosion, before everything fell apart. But she couldn't recall any photos left behind, especially not one of them together. She had taken everything with her when they separated.

"What's this photo?" Cynthia asked, her voice faint with confusion.

Olive grinned widely, displaying her little pearly teeth, and with a proud air, said, "Mommy, Uncle's bedroom has your photo. You two are hugging, and there's a big horse, and the sun is red. Hee hee..."

Cynthia was taken aback. She didn't recall leaving anything like that behind. Her eyes shifted to Albert, and she could see him suddenly stiffen, his face paling before flushing with an awkward red hue. He cleared his throat, avoiding her gaze.

Olive, still happily recounting the photo, added, "Mommy, you're so pretty in that picture, even more beautiful than Aunt Rannie!"

Cynthia's heart skipped a beat at the compliment, but she remained quiet, staring at Albert with a mix of suspicion and confusion. What was going on? Why would he have such a photo, one she had no memory of leaving behind? And why had he kept it?

Albert remained silent, his usually confident demeanor faltering slightly under Cynthia's gaze. He didn't say a word as Olive continued to smile, oblivious to the tension growing between the two adults.

Cynthia, still grappling with the shock of the unexpected revelation, simply tried to focus on her daughter's innocent praise, but deep down, a whirlwind of questions began to churn. Why had Albert kept such a thing, and what was the true meaning behind it?