Please Let Me Go, My Contracted Ex-Husband.-Chapter 149 - - Listen to the wife

When Cynthia arrived at BGIG, Albert was still in a meeting. Monica greeted her with excitement, her bright eyes sparkling as she exclaimed,

"Oh my gosh, Cynthia, you're finally here! Waaaah—"

Cynthia, startled by Monica's dramatic expression, quickly asked, "What happened?"

"Now that you're here, the boss's anger will finally subside! I won't have to keep being overworked, and the entire staff at BGIG can finally breathe again. Cynthia, you're our savior!"

Monica grasped Cynthia's hands with exaggerated emotion, her words of exaggerated gratitude making Cynthia's earlier apprehension fade into amusement. She couldn't help but smile softly. Monica really was a bundle of joy—whoever managed to win her heart would undoubtedly be incredibly lucky.

After chatting with Cynthia for a few moments, Monica rushed off to attend to her tasks, leaving Cynthia alone in the waiting room. Bored, she sat there, staring at the clock as the minutes ticked by. It was almost noon, and Albert was still in his meeting. He really was relentless when it came to work.

A while later, Monica popped her head back in and said, "Cynthia, the boss isn't done yet. Jim says it's going to take quite a while. Want to come grab lunch with me?"

Cynthia glanced down at the two lunchboxes she had brought and shook her head. "You go ahead. I brought my own lunch."

Time passed, and she wasn't sure how long she waited. The warm winter sunlight streamed through the large glass windows, bathing the room in a cozy glow. Hunger gnawed at her, and before she knew it, she had dozed off.

When she woke up, she was still bored out of her mind. Deciding she couldn't wait any longer, she picked up her things and left the waiting room, intending to drop by Monica's office to let her know she was heading home. Since Albert was so busy, she figured she could wait for him at the house instead.

As soon as she stepped out of the waiting room, the exclusive elevator for the CEO made a soft *ding* as its doors slid open.

Surprised, she looked up with anticipation. But the moment her eyes landed on the figure stepping out, she froze, her body stiffening like a statue.

Inside the elevator stood a man in a light gray suit, leaning lazily against the wall with a faint smile on his lips. His expression was relaxed, his features strikingly handsome. One hand rested casually in his pocket, while the other reached out to hold the hand of the woman opposite him.

The woman, dressed in a sleek silver suit that accentuated her figure, had short, stylishly cropped hair and flawless makeup. She leaned toward him in an intimate, almost provocative manner, practically draping herself on him. To Cynthia, the sunlight streaming in through the large windows seemed unbearably harsh, stinging her eyes as though mocking her.

"Cynthia, Cynthia! The boss just finished his meeting—"

Monica's voice rang out as she burst out of her office, but the last word caught in her throat when she saw the scene unfolding outside. She froze, her gaze darting between the three figures locked in tense silence.

Monica's sudden exclamation snapped Cynthia out of her daze. She glanced once more at the two people in the elevator but said nothing. Instead, she raised her chin proudly, forcing a mocking smile onto her lips. Without a word, she clutched the lunchbox in her hand and turned toward the stairwell, walking away with hurried steps.

How could she have been so naive? To think that breaking things off with Lucca would mean he would behave himself. She had forgotten—Lucca wasn't the only woman in his orbit. There were countless others, too many to name.

How could she have deluded herself into believing that bringing him his favorite lunch and visiting him at work would somehow lead to reconciliation? What a joke this so-called cold war was. What a farce this demand for honesty was. Clearly, he was living just fine without her—happy, carefree, and utterly unbothered.

And yet here she was, unable to eat, unable to sleep, worrying about him every single day.

The moment Cynthia walked away, Albert Wilson's expression darkened. He immediately flung the woman in the elevator aside, his sudden motion causing her to stumble against the wall with a pained gasp. Ignoring her completely, he strode out of the elevator, his focus fixed solely on Cynthia's retreating figure.

"Cynthia!"

He called her name, his deep voice tinged with frustration, as he took a step toward the stairwell where she had disappeared.

He knew what she had just seen was extremely suggestive, but it was truly a misunderstanding. That woman was the boss of a company that came to discuss a contract with BGIG today. After the meeting, she insisted on coming up to visit his office.

Her company was running well and had significant strength. Successfully collaborating with her could bring him great benefits. He had always been open to such profitable opportunities, so he agreed to bring her up.

What he didn't expect was that the woman pretended to sprain her ankle in the elevator, using it as an excuse to lean on him. He had no choice but to calmly block her hand that was reaching for him.

What he also didn't expect was her coming to his office, coincidentally standing at the elevator door just as the scene unfolded. And so, she saw what she saw.

As he thought about it in frustration, he kept chasing after her retreating figure. Great, now he had given her the silent treatment only to end up being the one running after her, trying hard to coax her back.

Can someone please tell him why, after giving her the cold shoulder, he ended up being the one frozen out? Is this what they mean by losing more than you gain?

If he had known, he would have ended the cold war when she showed weakness last time. That way, he could have taken advantage of the situation and enjoyed some "benefits," like taking things further.

But no, he had stubbornly tried to force her into confessing to him. Knowing full well her feelings for him had only just begun to bud, he still couldn't accept that her secrets were only shared with Vincent.

His arrogant and conceited words made her frown slightly. She took a deep breath to suppress the disgust rising in her heart, rolled her eyes dramatically, and responded coldly with two words:

"Idiot!"

Albert Wilson helplessly drove his car, following her from behind. One hand gripped the steering wheel, while the other rested on the rolled-down window as he called out to her:

"Hey, come on, get in the car! Stop messing around!"

If Fredy and the house staff saw this later, it would be so embarrassing.

Cynthia ignored him and kept walking along the driveway of the estate. There was still a long way to go from the front gate to the main house. She stomped ahead, fuming, determined to make her way home on foot.

She couldn't help but wonder how someone could be so shameless. If he wanted to make a scene, so be it. She stubbornly walked the entire way back home by herself. Furious, Albert Wilson stepped on the gas and sped off.

At dinner, she overheard him receiving a call from Klutz, inviting him to a gathering. She was still giving him the cold shoulder and didn't want to go. But at the same time, she didn't want to embarrass him in front of his friends since Klutz had explicitly said to bring her along. Reluctantly, she went, all the while ignoring his overly cheerful grin.

Given her previous experience of their gatherings involving endless games and karaoke, she was determined to stay low-key this time. As soon as she arrived, she sat next to Monica and chatted with her instead.

Meanwhile, the group of men were busy drinking and playing games. Already annoyed with him from their ongoing cold war, she found his sloppy appearance—cigarette in hand and beer in another—downright infuriating. Unable to help herself, she rolled her eyes at him coldly.

Albert Wilson, in the middle of getting the server to pour him another drink, suddenly felt a chill down his spine. He turned around to find her staring at him with a warning look. Embarrassed, he withdrew his hand holding the glass.

His exaggeratedly submissive reaction immediately caught the attention of everyone else. Following his gaze, they all turned to see his wife glaring daggers at him. Suddenly, everything clicked, and the room erupted in laughter.

It was as if they were all mocking his "wife-dominated" behavior. He didn't care at all. Meeting her eyes with a flicker of amusement in his dark gaze, he deliberately said:

"Listen to the wife..."

He deliberately emphasized the word *meat* and threw her a lewd glance. The group burst into laughter again. Her face instantly turned red from his blatant teasing, and she angrily looked away, too furious to engage with him.

She had already been ignoring him, but now she didn't even want to look at him. Klutz, however, wasn't about to let her off the hook. He shouted:

"Cynthia, come here and watch JC play cards! JC's on fire; we're losing miserably!"

The others joined in, chanting:

"Cynthia, come over! As soon as you're here, the VP gets all distracted, and we'll finally win!"

She felt like covering her ears. They were undoubtedly his brothers-in-arms—a band of mischief-makers only intent on helping him tease her. Only Monica tried to help her out, smiling and gently deflecting the chaos.

In the end, she didn't know how, but they managed to drag her over to his side. She was close to losing her temper when he unceremoniously pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly. Handing her his cards, he asked:

The 𝘮ost uptodat𝑒 novels are pub𝙡ished on freeweɓnovēl.coɱ.