Please Let Me Go, My Contracted Ex-Husband.-Chapter 219- as the restaurant

She was about to lose her mind because of this man. After fastening the last button, she turned around to face him, taking several deep breaths just to keep herself from screaming.

"Do you think I own the TV station? That I can just take time off or be late whenever I want?"

"But didn’t you say you wanted to talk to me?"

His expression immediately fell, and the way he spoke was eerily similar to how Olive acted when she was trying to be cute and get her way. Cynthia felt metaphorical black lines appear on her forehead. She couldn’t bring herself to yell at him anymore and could only sigh in exasperation.

"Mr. Wilson, I said I wanted to talk to you. But I never said it had to be right now, did I?"

His words followed immediately.

"Then when do you want to talk? Let me make it clear—I won’t wait past today!"

"Tonight! Will tonight work?"

She responded impatiently, brushing him off. A smile instantly spread across his face. He took a step forward, closing in on her, and she instinctively took a step back, alert.

"What are you trying to do?"

He reached into his pocket, pulled something out, and took her hand, pressing it into her palm. Then, taking the opportunity, he wrapped her small hand in his own and leaned in to whisper softly in her ear.

"Tonight, I’ll be waiting for you at the apartment."

Cynthia froze, her entire body stiffening. The apartment? The apartment! The place that held four years of memories between them? She had thought he would’ve sold it or gotten rid of it...

Albert glanced at her stunned expression before turning and walking away. This was exactly what he wanted—to catch her off guard with memories that would strike straight to her heart.

The doorbell rang, pulling Cynthia back from her thoughts. She glanced at the time and knew it must be Fredy coming to pick up Olive. She quickly walked out, only to see that he had already opened the door.

Fredy was startled to see him answering but quickly broke into a playful, knowing smile.

Feeling a bit awkward, Cynthia walked over and kissed Olive.

"Olive, be good today, okay? Mommy is going to work now!"

Then, without another glance, she hurriedly fled out the door.

That evening, before she was even off work, she received his call.

"What time do you get off? I’ll come pick you up!"

She hesitated, clutching the phone, struggling to find a good excuse to brush him off.

"Uh... well, I suddenly have a dinner gathering tonight. It might run late, so... how about we reschedule?"

The thought of bringing up what happened four years ago made her inexplicably want to run away. Conveniently, during lunch, Anna had sarcastically mentioned that the department’s sponsor was hosting a dinner for the news team because a new producer had arrived.

She assumed that, given his arrogant pride, he would either get angry and hang up on her or just agree to postpone. But instead, he simply asked,

"How late will the dinner go? I’ll pick you up afterward."

Though Albert was somewhat displeased by her rejection, he was no longer the same person he was four years ago—completely indifferent to her feelings. He understood that, given her current position, she inevitably had social obligations she couldn’t avoid.

But postponing? Not an option. No matter how late her dinner ran, he was determined to settle this tonight. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be able to sleep.

Since he had already insisted, Cynthia felt that turning him down again would be a bit too much, so she reluctantly said,

"Uh... there’s no need to trouble yourself. I’ll just call you when it’s over, okay?"

That night, the sponsor—who was as fat as a Jerk—had chosen Sas as the restaurant. Not just anyone could afford to dine at Sas, let alone host a meal for such a large group. Their news department alone had at least twenty or thirty people.

As the director, Bonnie led Cynthia, the alluring Anna, and a large group of colleagues from the news department in a grand procession to the banquet.

The sponsor grabbed Cynthia’s hand and refused to let go, calling her "beautiful" at every turn. His words made her stomach churn, but she had no choice but to force a smile.

Thankfully, Bonnie, with her impeccable social skills, managed to rescue Cynthia from the pig’s grasp. Cynthia quickly found a seat as far away from him as possible—practically miles away.

Anna, seeing how much attention Cynthia was getting, was deeply dissatisfied. Twisting her seductive figure, she took the seat right next to the sponsor. Yet, despite all of Anna’s efforts, the pig’s gaze remained fixated on Cynthia—so much so that he looked utterly mesmerized.

A woman like her could stir up every man’s desire to conquer. She might chat and laugh with you, but you could still sense that she was distant, as if she were looking down on everyone with quiet pride.

There was a kind of elusive mystery about her, a faint coldness that made people unconsciously want to chase after her, to claim her, to see what she would look like when she finally softened and melted into pure tenderness.

Meanwhile, in the president’s office at Sas, someone was in an exceptionally good mood, lounging on the sofa and swirling a glass of deep red wine. His long legs were stretched out carelessly, propped up on the coffee table in front of him.

He had long known she would be attending a dinner here tonight, so he had deliberately come over—waiting for her while conveniently helping himself collection of fine wine.

Carbles shot him an annoyed glare. That was one of his most treasured bottles, aged for years, and Albert had downed it in just a few gulps, leaving the bottle empty.

The internal phone line rang. Carbles picked up, listened for a moment, and then broke into a knowing, amused smile.

Albert, seeing his expression, immediately got goosebumps. He frowned in irritation.

"Carbles, don’t tell me you’re acting like this just because I drank your wine?"

Carbles remained composed and said matter-of-factly,

"Once upon a time, a man drank another man’s most cherished, long-preserved wine... and so, that man’s woman got harassed by someone else."

"What?!"

Albert immediately jumped up from the sofa, tossed his wine aside, and bolted out the door.

Inside the private dining room, when it was Cynthia’s turn to propose a toast, the pig of a sponsor once again grabbed her hand and refused to let go, insisting she drink. Cynthia, already with a limited alcohol tolerance, didn’t want to drink any more, but the man was relentless.

Albert, watching from outside, was seething with rage. He stormed in, yanking Cynthia away from the Jerk’s grasp and shielding her tightly against his chest.

The entire room fell silent in shock—including the pig himself.

Albert shot a fierce glare at Cynthia, her cheeks flushed from the alcohol, before snatching the glass from her hand. He turned to Bonnie and declared,

"Bonnie, from now on, all sponsorships for your network will come from BGIG. What do you think?"

He didn’t even spare the Jerk a glance.