Please Let Me Go, My Contracted Ex-Husband.-Chapter 220- We should talk outside

The crowd behind them stood frozen for a long time, unable to snap out of their daze. Many were still uncertain and kept asking, "Was that Albert Wilson, the Vice President, who just barged in?"

Since they had only ever seen him on television and in news reports, his sudden, real-life appearance left them momentarily unable to react.

Anna finally recovered from her shock and, in a sharp, exasperated voice, demanded,

"What’s the relationship between that woman and Vice President Wilson?"

In the entire room, only Bonnie remained composed. She took a slow sip of her wine and replied nonchalantly,

"Actually... not much of a relationship. He’s just the father of her daughter, that’s all."

"What?!"

Anna’s beautiful face was instantly overtaken by disbelief. The twenty or thirty colleagues present, including that jerk of a boss, were equally stunned, their mouths gaping wide enough to fit an egg.

Bonnie ignored their shock. With her usual grace, she picked up her wine glass and looked at the dumbfounded jerk of a boss, saying politely,

"Since BGIG will be sponsoring our TV station from now on, I guess we’ll have to wait for another opportunity to collaborate. Goodbye, Mr. Jerk (Zhu)."

With that, she finished her drink, turned elegantly, and walked away without caring about the reactions behind her.

Meanwhile, Albert walked out with Cynthia, his face grim. Without hesitation, he stuffed her into the car. Sensing his anger, Cynthia dared not say a word. She simply curled up in her seat and remained silent.

The car came to a stop in front of her old apartment building. Without a word, he got out, completely ignoring her. She shrank back into her seat, hesitant to follow. But then she thought—she hadn’t done anything wrong. Why should she be afraid of him?

With that thought, she straightened her back, puffed out her chest, and stepped out of the car with confidence.

Albert was leaning against the car, smoking. The cigarette’s ember flickered red in the night, his expression so dark and forbidding that it sent a shiver straight through her heart. She stole a quick glance at him, then wrapped her coat tighter around herself and hurried toward the building. In her palm, she still held the item he had shoved at her that morning—the key to the apartment.

She had barely taken a few steps when she heard his steady footsteps approaching from behind. The next second, his strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her into his embrace as he guided her upstairs. She struggled briefly, but it was useless. The coldness radiating from him only deepened, so she had no choice but to surrender.

Albert was furious—furious that she had allowed that jerk to touch her without resisting. If he hadn’t been there tonight, would she have just let herself get drunk and taken advantage of? The thought alone made his head throb with rage, making him want to yell at her. But considering that tonight’s priority wasn’t that, he could only rely on cigarettes to suppress his anger.

As soon as they entered the apartment, Cynthia barely had time to take in her surroundings before he shoved her into the bathroom. His gritted voice came through the door:

"Wash off every trace that jerk left on you!"

Caught off guard, Cynthia stumbled inside, the door slamming shut behind her. She stood there for a moment, cursing him under her breath before turning to take a shower. She needed to wash off the stench of alcohol anyway.

It was only after she had stripped off her clothes that she realized—what was she supposed to wear after?

Carefully cracking the door open, she peeked out and whispered hesitantly,

"Albert... I don’t have any clothes to change into..."

"There’s a towel, isn’t there?!"

His furious roar rang through the door, making her jolt. With a sheepish pout, she quickly shut the door again.

The bathroom was still the same as before, with all the toiletries neatly arranged. The only difference was that everything she had once used was now gone—what remained belonged solely to him. She frowned slightly. Did he still come here to stay?

After a quick shower, she wrapped herself in a towel and stepped out, only to find him sitting leisurely on the sofa, waiting for her. Instantly, embarrassment flooded her. Discussing anything in such a state of undress felt unbearably awkward.

It was early spring, around February or March. Though the room had heating, she still felt cold wrapped in just a towel. Seeing her shiver, he got up, walked into the bedroom, and tossed her one of his robes—a light gray, quilted robe, warm and thick to the touch.

"Thanks."

She grabbed the robe and hurried into the bedroom. Only then did she realize just how vast the size difference between them was. The robe nearly dragged on the floor, and even after wrapping the belt around her waist twice, she barely managed to keep it from slipping off.

Still, it had one advantage—it covered her completely, wrapping her up snugly and warming her almost instantly.

As she lifted her gaze, she suddenly noticed signs of life scattered all over the small bedroom.

Her little desk was cluttered with papers and office supplies, as if he had worked here before. A few of his dress shirts were strewn across the floor, and the large bed was messy, bearing clear signs of someone having slept in it.

A realization hit her. She stood there, her nose tingling with an inexplicable feeling.

Albert walked in from the living room and saw her standing still, quietly taking everything in. He stepped forward and gently embraced her from behind, resting his head against her shoulder. His voice was heavy as he spoke.

"Cynthia, I’m sorry. I know... I’ve owed you these three words for a long time."

Her entire body tensed. In that moment, she wasn’t even sure what she was feeling. Panicking, she hurriedly pushed away his hands from her waist.

"We... should talk outside."

She turned to leave, but whether it was due to nerves or the robe being too long, she suddenly tripped, stumbling straight forward.

Of course, Albert couldn’t just stand by and watch her fall so embarrassingly. Striding forward, he caught her just in time and pulled her back into his arms.

Cynthia’s face burned with embarrassment. She grabbed the robe and bolted out of the room, curling up in a corner of the small sofa, hugging her knees tightly as she waited for him to speak.

Albert sat diagonally across from her, looking just a little uneasy himself. He studied her for a long moment before finally forcing out a question.

"Which... which topic do you want to start with?"

"Whatever."

Her face immediately darkened.

Seeing this, he quickly raised both hands in surrender. 𝕗𝚛𝚎𝚎𝐰𝗲𝗯𝗻𝚘𝚟𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝕞

"Alright, alright! How about this—I’ll start by admitting... everything I’ve done."