Please Let Me Go, My Contracted Ex-Husband.-Chapter 213 - -phone call

He was momentarily stunned by Jim's serious expression and the string of unfamiliar titles, taking a good while to realize that the person Jim was referring to was her. His chest surged with joy, his heart pounding wildly. Grabbing his phone, he rushed out.

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Even though he knew she wouldn't call him for no reason, he couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation and sweetness.

As soon as he made his teasing remark, he heard her exasperated voice from the other end.

"Albert, can't you be serious for once?"

He could picture her on the other side, her cheeks slightly flushed, lips pursed in frustration—a sight so adorable that he simply chuckled softly and held back from teasing her further.

Probably annoyed by his playful attitude, she quickly switched to a formal tone.

"I just wanted to ask if Mr. Wilson would be interested in accepting our TV station's invitation to do a live interview during the prime-time news segment and help analyze the core topics of this year's summit."

Albert was amused by her sudden shift in tone, letting out a quiet laugh as he leaned lazily against the wall, casually taking a drag from his cigarette.

"Miss Lancaster, working so hard on your very first day in office?"

He teased, expecting her to snap back at him again. But instead, he only heard her take a few shallow breaths before she suddenly threw out a remark, sounding lazy yet resigned.

"What else can I do? I have to make a strong first impression, don't I?"

She mumbled in a small voice, her slightly sulky tone tinged with grievance, almost like she was pouting. The moment he heard it, his heart melted completely, and without thinking, he blurted out—

"Burn it! Burn it as much as you want! However big a fire you want, I'll help you make it even bigger!"

On the other end, Cynthia had already been stewing in anger all morning after being provoked by Anna. She had finally mustered up the courage to call him, only to be teased by him again and again. Suddenly, all her pent-up frustration boiled over, and without realizing it, she spoke to him in that tone.

Maybe even she herself didn't fully understand—deep down, she still relied on him. The care and indulgence he had showered upon her over the years had long seeped into her very being. The moment something happened, the first person she thought of was him.

Right after she spoke, she sensed that something felt off. Embarrassment surged through her, and she had no idea how to react. But before she could even figure it out, she heard his voice again—firm, unwavering, and filled with undeniable, blatant affection:

"Burn it! Burn it as much as you want! However big a fire you want, I'll help you make it even bigger!"

His unfiltered sincerity made her chest tighten, an overwhelming urge to escape rising within her. So she hurriedly asked—

"So... does that mean you're saying yes?"

"What do you think?"

Listening to her flustered tone, Albert's lips curled into a smile as he deliberately responded with a question of his own, his voice calm and amused.

People passing by—fellow attendees of the conference—couldn't help but glance at him in surprise.

Who was the woman on the other end of the call? What kind of person could make the sharp-witted, ruthless "Cold-Faced Reaper" of the conference hall speak in such a soft tone, with a gentle smile in his eyes?

"Alright, thank you. I'll have our Bangkok correspondent get in touch with you!"

Cynthia rushed through her words, eager to hang up before he could make any additional requests. She knew he wouldn't let her off so easily, but she still deceived herself into thinking she could escape before he had the chance.

Sure enough, just as she was about to disconnect, his voice rang out.

"I thought Miss Lancaster knew me well enough..."

That one simple, nonchalant remark was enough to make her abandon the idea of hanging up.

Damn it. This man was infuriatingly composed. Of course, she knew what he was like! That was precisely why she had wanted to cut the call before he had the chance to speak.

Resigning herself to fate, she gripped the phone tightly and said,

"Fine. Just say it—what do you want?"

And yet, he continued to chuckle, his tone light and unhurried, deliberately keeping her on edge.

"Honestly, I don't want much... I just hope you'll give me a chance to sit down and have a proper conversation with you."

Wasn't this what they called serendipity? He had been racking his brain, wondering how to get her to sit down and talk to him properly. And now, she had practically walked into his trap.

Like a porcupine instantly bristling with its quills, she went on high alert the moment he brought it up. Her voice was filled with wariness and resistance.

"I don't think there's anything left for us to talk about!"

But he didn't get angry. Instead, he spoke with remarkable patience, his voice calm and steady.

"I think there's a lot we need to talk about—about the misunderstandings from four years ago, about the four years you spent in Australia with Olive... and about our future."

His deep voice, rich like the sound of a cello, flowed through the receiver, striking a chord in her heart. A surge of emotions washed over her all at once—pain at the mention of four years ago, bitterness at the mention of her time in Australia, and an inexplicable flutter at the mention of their future.

But now that she had already called him, she no longer had the right to refuse. No matter what the outcome of their conversation would be, she had to gather her courage and face it.

Across from her, Bonnie had been watching anxiously, silently signaling with her eyes that she didn't have to force herself if she didn't want to. Cynthia bit her lip, hesitated for a moment, and finally asked—

"When are you coming back?"

Even now, she was unwilling to give him a direct answer, choosing instead to phrase it in a roundabout way. But that was more than enough to make Albert's heart soar. He had to fight to keep his excitement in check, though the grin on his face was impossible to suppress.

"I was originally supposed to return in a week, but now..."

He deliberately dragged out his words, his tone teasing.

"I think I can be back the day after tomorrow."

His joy was impossible to contain—it spilled out into his voice, into his laughter. And before he could even fully enjoy his triumph, she hung up on him with an annoyed huff.

The smile on his face only grew wider, until it turned into a full-blown, carefree laugh. The meal in front of him had already gone cold, but he barely cared—he shoved a few bites into his mouth, then walked back into the conference hall, his mood impossibly light.