Please Let Me Go, My Contracted Ex-Husband.-Chapter 100 - - It was you

Cynthia was clearly taken aback by her words. Not love? Then what was it? If it wasn't love, would someone shed tears and pull him away from a wedding banquet? If it wasn't love, would a woman stay by his side for so many years?

Though surprised, Cynthia refrained from expressing any opinion. After all, it was someone else's business—it had nothing to do with her. She turned back to Monica with a small smile.

"Let's go back and check. The doctor should have finished his diagnosis by now."

Monica stood there, staring at the slender figure walking away. A wave of mixed emotions surged in her heart.

Lucca had saved Albert Wilson twice. The first time was when he was seven years old. That year, his parents, carrying him in their arms, jumped into the sea in a desperate attempt to end their lives. By sheer luck, he was rescued by an elderly passerby.

However, the old man was being hunted at the time. After fleeing with Albert for a short while, he realized he couldn't protect the boy any longer. In desperation, he left Albert at the doorstep of a random household—the Qin family. At that time, Lucca was still the kind-hearted eldest daughter of the Qin family. Seeing Albert frozen and barely clinging to life, she begged her father to save him.

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A year later, when the old man was safe, he sent people to find Albert and took him back to BlackRock. From then on, Lucca stayed in touch with him.

Albert became a brooding young man, burdened with a vendetta that filled him with icy indifference toward everyone—even Lucca. Yet, she silently remained by his side.

When he turned eighteen, the old man sent him to the Golden Triangle for a grueling training mission. Unable to endure the pain of missing him, Lucca secretly went to visit. She arrived just in time to witness him being ambushed by drug dealers. In a moment of desperation, she took a bullet for him.

After they returned from the Golden Triangle, the two officially confirmed their relationship. From then until now, Albert Wilson had sworn to never abandon her. That was why Lucca had agreed to him marrying the daughter of the Lancaster family. To her, it didn't matter—because no matter who he married, it would end in separation eventually.

Of course, none of this could be shared with Cynthia. Little Cynthia already had her reservations about her boss, and if she learned about his entanglement with Lucca, it would only drive her further away.

But Monica genuinely rooted for her boss and Cynthia. She could sense that Cynthia was different for him. Ever since Cynthia appeared in his life, she had witnessed her boss lose his composure on several occasions—something unprecedented. Most shocking of all, he had even resorted to force with her!

When Cynthia returned to the hospital room, the doctor was just coming out. She asked about the diagnosis, and the doctor assured her that there was nothing serious—just some emotional distress. Resting for a while should suffice.

Suddenly, she remembered what Jim had once told her: never mention the sea in front of him—it was his taboo. Then, recalling the old man's story about rescuing him from the icy waters of the sea, everything clicked. She finally understood his extreme reaction.

But as this realization dawned on her, her heart began to race. If the sea was his greatest fear, then why had he risked his life to dive in and save her? To him, she was nothing more than a pawn to humiliate the Lancaster family. Was it really worth it for him to go to such lengths?

She turned to look through the glass panel of the hospital room at the man lying inside. His complexion was paler than she had ever seen. Remembering his near-madness earlier, she couldn't suppress a shiver.

Noticing her trembling, Jim quickly spoke up, "Miss Lancaster, let me take you home to rest."

Cynthia glanced down at her disheveled appearance and didn't refuse, following Jim out of the hospital.

On the way back, Jim drove quietly, occasionally stealing glances at her through the rearview mirror. At that moment, she looked exhausted, detached, and even a little helpless.

Of course, being kidnapped and nearly losing her life—twice—was enough to shake anyone. For a young woman, maintaining this level of composure was already remarkable. Though they still didn't know who was behind it, Jim was certain his boss wouldn't let it slide.

And why would he? The fact that his boss broke his own taboo for her was proof enough—she was different to him.

When Cynthia got home, she changed out of her damp clothes, took a shower, and curled up on her small sofa. Though it was May, with the weather neither too hot nor too cold, her tiny apartment felt unnervingly cold and empty.

After coming so close to death twice, even someone as calm and composed as her couldn't remain unaffected. The more she thought about it, the colder and more frightened she felt. She had never truly feared anything before, but now, she wondered if she should move or even return to living on campus.

The next morning, Cynthia woke up early. She hesitated for a long time before finally deciding to call him to check if he was feeling better. His voice, however, sounded like he was on the verge of exploding with anger.

"Come over immediately. I'll have Jim pick you up!"

When she arrived, she quickly understood the reason for his fury. The moment she stepped into his office, Doreen Lancaster, sobbing uncontrollably, rushed toward her and threw her arms around her, wailing,

"Cynthia, please save me! I'm begging you—save me!"

Cynthia froze, her expression filled with disgust. She stiffly pushed Doreen away.

"Doreen, what are you doing?"

In all her life, she had never seen Doreen Lancaster look so undignified—so un-Wilson-like. Especially in front of the man she cared about. Wasn't Doreen supposed to be the picture of elegance and seduction?

But to Cynthia's shock, Doreen collapsed onto the floor, clutching at her pant leg, crying and babbling,

"Cynthia, I couldn't stand it—I couldn't stand Vincent taking a bullet for you! I couldn't stand him divorcing my second sister because of you! That's why I wanted revenge! That's why I hired someone to kidnap you!"

Cynthia glared at Doreen, equal parts shocked and furious.

"It was you?"

Doreen Lancaster's once-stunning face was now filled with panic.

"It was me! But, Cynthia, I never meant to take your life! I just wanted to scare you a little. I just wanted Deputy Wilson to see how pathetic you looked falling into the sea. But I didn't know the sea was his taboo! If he hadn't saved you, you—you..."

As she spoke, Doreen broke down into sobs. For all her hatred toward Cynthia, in her heart, they were still sisters. She had never intended to kill her.

The day after Vincent divorced Grace Lancaster, Doreen had received a call from an unknown number. The voice on the other end, clearly altered, belonged to a woman. The caller asked if Doreen wanted to get revenge on Cynthia.

Blinded by rage—both new grievances and old wounds boiling over—Doreen had agreed immediately. The woman only asked her for Cynthia's weaknesses, then devised the plan. But Doreen could never have imagined that Deputy Wilson's taboo would also be the sea.

When the man she had always secretly loved—the same man who had orchestrated everything—had her dragged to his office that morning and coldly explained the truth, she collapsed on the spot.

But even that wasn't the worst of it. The worst came when he spoke his punishment with chilling indifference:

"As retribution, I'll sell you to the Golden Triangle. From this moment on, you'll spend the rest of your life as nothing more than a plaything for men."

In that instant, Doreen no longer saw him as handsome or charming. He was nothing but a cruel, heartless demon—a devil from the depths of hell. He had no heart.

Doreen suddenly felt a twisted sense of relief—thankfully, this man hadn't married her. Otherwise, she would have been tortured to death by now. What scared her more was how effortlessly he inflicted such torment, as if it were just another mundane task.

Crying and screaming, she begged him to let her go, promising she would never pull such a stunt again. But no matter how desperately she pleaded, he remained unmoved. If anything, the coldness and murderous intent in his eyes only deepened.

In her despair, she clutched at the only hope she had left: Cynthia. She thought Cynthia, as her sister for so many years, might help her, at least enough to avoid being sold to the Golden Triangle.

"Cynthia, I know I've treated you terribly all these years, but please, I'm begging you! Help me just this once! The deputy wants to sell me to the Golden Triangle... please!"

Doreen Lancaster sat pathetically on the floor, her makeup smeared, her hair a mess, crying so hard she could barely breathe.

Cynthia looked down at her from above, a cold smile curling her lips.

"The Golden Triangle? What a brilliant idea. With your figure, you'd be in high demand there."

Doreen froze, utterly stunned. She hadn't expected Cynthia to say something so heartless. After a long moment of shock, she suddenly snapped, lunging at Cynthia in a frenzy. Clawing at Cynthia's clothes, she screamed hysterically,

"Cynthia, how can you be so cold and cruel? We've been sisters for so many years! How can you treat me like this?"

Before Doreen could get far, Albert Wilson's men stepped in, pulling her away with ease. Cynthia, unfazed, extended her slender fingers and casually brushed off the spot Doreen had touched. Her expression was one of pure disdain as she replied mockingly,

"Sisters? Doreen Lancaster, search your conscience. Over all these years, have you or Grace Lancaster ever treated me like a sister?"