Please Let Me Go, My Contracted Ex-Husband.-Chapter 115 - - Betrayal is your specialty

Outside the door, Cynthia burst in, tears streaming down her face. Victoria and Gary followed, and the three of them knelt by Marc's bedside, unable to rise. He was the one who had given them life, the one who had raised them. Now, he was gone—separated from them by life and death...

Even Jim, a man as tough as he was, had tears welling up in his eyes. He quickly turned and left the room.

Doctors and nurses moved in and out, tending to their duties, while Cynthia remained there, kneeling, her expression dazed as she watched them cover Marc's body with a white sheet and wheel him out of the room. Albert Wilson bent down and helped her to her feet, and she collapsed into his arms, tears flowing uncontrollably.

It was Albert and Gary who took charge of Marc's funeral arrangements. The slender boy, Gary, seemed to have aged years in the span of a single night. Marc was buried on the hillside behind the orphanage, so he could still be close to them, watching over them.

There was no gravestone, no elaborate tomb; just a small mound of earth. On the day of his burial, the children from the orphanage attended. When they heard that Marc would no longer be there to look after them, their cries were heart-wrenching, filled with raw grief.

Vincent also came. He had heard the news of Marc's death, and dressed in black, he arrived to pay his respects. From a distance, he saw Cynthia leaning against Albert Wilson, silently shedding tears.

To Vincent, Marc had been an important figure as well. He had been the witness to his and Cynthia's love story. Back then, he had even fantasized about having Marc officiate at their wedding, but Marc had politely declined.

What Vincent didn't know, however, was that it was his father, along with William S. Lancaster, who had pushed Marc to this point—forced him into hiding and living under a false identity.

Vincent had come with the intention of comforting Cynthia, knowing how significant Marc had been to her. But now, seeing her fully leaning into that man's embrace, he could only turn and walk away. What else could he do?

After handling Marc's affairs, Cynthia stayed at Albert Wilson's house for a while longer. The pain of losing someone so dear to her left her in a state of deep sorrow, as though a piece of her heart had been forcibly ripped away.

At first, she often spent entire days at the orphanage, doing nothing, just silently weeping as she remembered the moments spent with Marc. She was lost in her own world of memories. She vividly remembered that when she was ten years old, Vincent had brought her to the orphanage. Halfway through, Vincent was called back by the Danny family, leaving her alone here, while she had an exam in the city the next day.

Over ten years ago, the orphanage was still on the outskirts, with only one bus to the city. She had woken up late that morning and missed the bus. Desperate, she cried, and no one from the Lancaster family cared about her plight. By the time she could have called Vincent for help, it was already too late.

Back then, Marc was already struggling to keep the orphanage afloat, and there was no way for him to afford a car—he didn't even have a motorcycle. The ten-mile trip to the city was long, but Marc still rode his bicycle as fast as he could to make sure she got there on time. At that age, she didn't realize how difficult it was to ride a bike that far. She only knew the exam was important and that she couldn't be late. Along the way, she urged Marc to ride faster, getting anxious when he slowed down.

It was only after the exam that she learned Marc had returned exhausted and spent the entire next day in bed because of the strain on his back, which had been injured before. When she heard this, she burst into tears.

By the time she began to recover from this pain, it was early autumn. She mentioned to Albert Wilson that she wanted to return to her small apartment, but every time she did, he would coax her, threaten her, and insist that if she left, he would come to her apartment that night and force her to stay.

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During this time, because of her emotional state, although she continued living in his house, and he returned every night, he never forced her to do anything. Each night, he simply held her as they fell asleep, and over time, this became a routine for both of them.

However, this could not continue forever. After Marc's death, she still had to take care of the Wilson orphanage and manage the underworld business to keep it running. She knew that, after their brief time together, their lives had to go their separate ways.

That night, she waited for Albert Wilson until midnight, but he never returned. It was the first time since she had been living with him that he didn't come home. She felt a vague sense of unease, but she couldn't quite figure out why.

Cynthia wanted to have a proper conversation with Albert about returning to her own apartment, so she couldn't help but send him a message: What time will you be back tonight?

Not long after, her phone rang. The caller ID showed his number, and without thinking, she answered the call. This was his usual pattern: when she sent him a message, he would call her soon after. However, this time, the voice on the other end was soft and carried a hint of smugness and satisfaction.

"Miss Lancaster, Albert is in the shower. He won't be coming back tonight."

It was Lucca's voice. Cynthia felt as though something had lodged in her throat, leaving her speechless. On the other end, Lucca, noticing her silence, let a smug smile curl at the corners of her lips.

"What's the matter? Miss Lancaster, did you need to speak with him?"

"No," Cynthia said quietly before hanging up the phone.

The sound of running water in the bathroom stopped, and Lucca calmly deleted the message and call history from the phone. She turned to embrace Albert, who had just emerged from the bathroom. With a soft, affectionate expression, she nestled into his arms.

"Albert, today's my birthday. It's so late now... won't you stay with me?"

"Mhm," Albert Wilson replied, glancing at the clock on the wall.

It was nearly one in the morning. He assumed Cynthia had probably fallen asleep by now. More importantly, he felt it was only right to spend Lucca's birthday with her, given their years together.

Lucca was indeed a good woman, loyal and devoted to him for many years, even when he had nothing and was still struggling. She was gentle, thoughtful, and never caused him trouble. Even when rumors of his relationships with other women circulated, she accepted them calmly, confident in his commitment to her.

Before, he had genuinely liked Lucca—her appearance, family background, and abilities made her a perfect match for him. But what he liked most was her attitude toward him. Unlike the high-society women who tried to control their men, she had always given him freedom.

But now, he wasn't sure why, but he felt a growing distance between them. Perhaps it was the incident with Vincent's shooting, or something else. Regardless, he found himself distancing from her.

Seeing him lost in his thoughts, Lucca, displeased, pulled his head down to kiss him softly on the lips.

"Albert, it's so late, let's go to bed."

Albert, snapping out of his thoughts, subtly avoided her kiss, pulling her gently towards the bedroom.

"Lucca, I'll head to the study to review some details about the Laurence family. You go to bed."

He kissed her forehead quickly before turning and walking away without looking back, leaving Lucca behind, calling after him in frustration.

Meanwhile, after hanging up the phone, Cynthia lay in bed, tossing and turning, feeling a heavy weight on her chest as though a stone was pressing down on her. The image of Albert in Lucca's embrace kept playing in her mind.

If he was already so comfortable in her arms, why did he still insist on keeping her here?

After a sleepless night, the next morning, Cynthia packed her bags and left the luxurious house without a second glance. Fredy chased after her, calling desperately for her to return, but she walked away with unwavering determination, leaving him behind.

During the time Cynthia had spent living with Albert, Fredy had been quite kind to her. She felt as if she had gained a bit of weight, but it wasn't from anything she could control. No matter how much she wished for it, things couldn't be forced.

As soon as she stepped into her small apartment, her phone rang. It was Albert. She could tell from his tone that he was upset, almost grinding his teeth as he spoke.

"Cynthia, how dare you leave without my permission?"

She gave a bitter laugh, avoiding his question skillfully, deflecting it with a calm tone.

"Albert, thank you for taking care of me and letting me stay there. I think I've moved past the pain now and shouldn't stay there anymore to trouble you. Besides, Miss Lucca has already expressed her disapproval."

Since returning from France, she had gotten used to calling him "Albert," and now it felt natural, no longer awkward.

But to Albert, the calmness in her voice and the way she addressed him made him feel like a child throwing a tantrum. He was the one who was wronged, and yet she spoke to him in such a condescending way!

He gripped the phone, his veins on the back of his hand standing out from his anger.

"Cynthia, I should have known. Betrayal is your specialty. Fine, you really are something else!"

If it weren't for the fact that he had an operation to deal with involving Robin Laurence's territory that night, he would have stormed over and made her regret defying him. He couldn't understand it—how could there be such a woman in the world? Why did she insist on living in that shabby, inconvenient apartment when she could have stayed in his luxurious home?

He angrily hung up the phone, and as he looked up, he found his two trusted assistants watching him with knowing glances.

"Why are you standing there like idiots? Get to work!" he shouted at them.

Jim, seeing the tension in the air, decided to make a quick exit, but Monica, unfazed, approached with an eager expression and asked, "Boss, can I join the operation tonight?"

Despite her delicate appearance, Monica was one of the most formidable members of BlackRock, known for her prowess in judo. During their training, she had once left Jim howling in pain as he played the role of her training partner.

Using a modern term, she was both talented in academics and martial arts.

Albert gave her a sharp look, not in the mood for her antics. "If you don't want to keep entertaining old men tonight, then go," he snapped.

He was already feeling the pressure, with everything coming to a head, and now these women were distracting him.

In recent days, Albert had gathered enough information on Robin Laurence. Of all his rivals, Robin was the one with the deepest schemes and the sharpest methods. His underworld group, the Four Seas Gang, seemed low-profile, but it controlled the entire coastal drug trade. While BlackRock wasn't involved in such business, Robin had seized this gap, making a fortune in the illicit trade.