Please Let Me Go, My Contracted Ex-Husband.-Chapter 133 - - What do you mean?

There was silence on the other end, likely from anger so intense that he couldn't speak. Fredy, understanding, handed the phone back to the woman in the back seat. Cynthia giggled as she took the phone.

"Hmm? Who's calling?"

Who would remember her and call her? A lonely person like her...

"Master—"

Fredy wiped the sweat from his brow, praying she wouldn't forget who the Master was.

However, it was as if she saw through his thoughts. Tilting her head and furrowing her delicate brows, she opened her mouth and asked, "Master? Who's that?"

Fredy was instantly frozen in place, then covered his head and turned back around. The driver, startled, almost swerved the car. Sure enough, a loud roar came through the phone.

"Cynthia!"

The shout startled Cynthia awake for a moment, but she quickly drifted back into her haze. She weakly leaned against the back seat, holding the phone to her ear, nodding to herself seriously.

"Oh, oh, squid, huh..."

"What?"

Three voices of shock rang out simultaneously: Fredy and the driver looked terrified, while Albert Wilson's face turned ashen with fury.

Meanwhile, the little woman was oblivious to the chaos she had caused. Instead, she impatiently explained.

"Isn't he called Albert Wilson? So calling him squid is most fitting. But his taste is far worse than squid..."

Fredy and the driver were ready to jump out of the car at this point. They had no courage to listen any further. Trembling, Fredy reached out a hand toward her, calling her softly.

"Madam? Madam?"

He wanted her to hurry up and hand him the phone so he could end this maddening conversation, but Cynthia didn't notice his subtle hints and didn't understand why his expression was so fearful. She continued to pout and complain.

"Squid tastes so fresh and tender, so smooth and delicious, but him? He's got such a bad temper, it stinks and it's as hard as a rock, and he's always shouting at people. So arrogant..."

As she was talking, she suddenly heard a sharp "bang" on the other end of the line, followed by complete silence. She shook the phone in her hand, confused, and said, "Huh? Did he hang up?"

She waited for a while with no response, then casually threw the phone aside and leaned back in her seat, falling into a deep sleep. Fredy and the driver exchanged a glance before simultaneously slumping in their seats. There was no need to think; the loud noise earlier had to be Albert Wilson throwing the phone.

To have your name called "squid" like that—who wouldn't go crazy? And it was Albert Wilson, a proud, lofty man.

The problem was, it wasn't just that she called him that—she ate squid like a madwoman! Fine, fine, if she was going to eat it, that was one thing. But the way she devoured it so fiercely, as if she were going to swallow the whole thing alive...

At that thought, Fredy suddenly covered his mouth and gasped. He remembered when he reported to the master that the squid looked like her enemy.

Now, he finally understood why she had such strong feelings toward the squid. She probably saw them as her version of his master. Oh, the "wicked" and unpredictable minds of women...

On the other end, Albert Wilson had already turned ashen with rage and thrown the phone. Just thinking about the words he had just heard made him want to go crazy. Squid? How could she think of such a thing? Damn woman, she always seemed so cold and distant, but in reality, she was more evil than anyone.

He remembered the time last year when they were together, and she had desperately eaten squid. It had made him so angry he almost vomited blood. So it turned out, from that moment on, she had been calling him that in her mind!

Albert Wilson, furious with his eyes blazing, saw Monica rushing over with a list.

"Boss, the old man said we're having hot pot tonight!"

Albert Wilson's lips twitched, but Monica didn't notice and continued smiling cheerfully.

"So, hurry up and tell me what ingredients you want, so they can go out and buy them!"

Albert Wilson's expression grew darker. Monica glanced at the list in her hand and pouted.

"Look, even though the big guy and the others chose a lot of stuff, no one picked squid. How can you have hot pot without squid? So, since you've been silent this whole time, how about I just put squid down for you?"

"Monica!"

Albert Wilson gritted his teeth and yelled, making Monica jump in fright and almost drop her notebook. He glared at her without mercy.

"I think I need to suggest to the old man that you and Jim would make a great match!"

"No way?"

Monica almost spat out blood.

The old man had already seen her and Jim as a perfect match. In his eyes, they were around the same age, both working under Albert Wilson, and could look out for each other. Now that Albert Wilson was stirring things up, the old man would probably drag them both to the church at once.

Monica clenched her fists in frustration. "Heaven above! Don't you know, I don't want to marry that guy who always mocks me, always goes against me, and doesn't know how to be gentle with me!"

Albert Wilson glanced at her tragic expression and turned to leave. Monica thought he was really going to go find the old man, and she immediately panicked, her face turning pale.

"Bro, no—!"

She rushed forward, grabbing Albert Wilson, tears streaming down her face.

"If I said or did something wrong, just let me know, I'll change! I swear I'll change!"

Albert Wilson remained cold and kept walking forward. He wasn't really going to find the old man, he just wanted to punish her a little for her loose tongue. After all, who told her to bring up the topic of squid? Even though ignorance is no excuse, she didn't know it was a forbidden topic for him, but just hearing the word "squid" made him want to lose his mind.

On New Year's Day, the city was hit by its heaviest snowfall, blanketing everything in a sea of silver. The moment Cynthia saw the glaring white, she felt a chill run through her body and stayed indoors all day, too scared to go out.

That night, after getting drunk, she went straight to bed and fell into a deep sleep, completely unaware of what she had said or done earlier. The next morning, she noticed that Fredy was looking at her strangely, his eyes filled with an odd expression, as though he wanted to laugh but was holding it back.

She was confused but didn't dare ask him what was going on. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't remember what she had done. Later, Gary called to tell her that Quinn had disappeared. She knew he must have returned to the world where he truly belonged.

After dinner, she went to bed early. In the middle of the night, she felt the chill growing stronger. Even though the house had heating, the place was so large and empty, and she felt increasingly lonely on the big bed. She pulled the blanket tighter, curling herself up for warmth.

Faintly, she suddenly heard a sound coming from the door. She thought she must have misheard. How could anyone be entering her room? Drowsy, she didn't think much of it and fell back asleep.

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It was unclear how much time had passed when the bed behind her suddenly sank. Her cold body was suddenly pulled into a warm embrace. She was startled awake, but before she could scream, her mouth was covered by a long, tender kiss.

Her eyes snapped open in fear as she struggled, but the familiar scent of the person in the darkness reached her—fresh, like someone who had just taken a shower. The familiar, luxurious scent of body wash made her relax, and the tension in her body gradually eased.

The kiss became more intense, and his large hand forcefully turned her body, sneaking beneath the blanket to explore her delicate form, touching her inch by inch. Finally, he stopped at her chest, roughly kneading her sensitive skin.

His movements were rough and uncontrolled, as though he was releasing all the pent-up emotions of the past few days in that kiss. Her lips burned with pain from his biting, and her chest felt discomfort, completely lacking the pleasure from before.

She couldn't help but let out a muffled cry of pain, pushing against his chest with her small hands, trying to get him to release her. If this continued, she felt like she might suffocate.

After a few pushes, he seemed to sense her discomfort and reluctantly let go. Just as she tried to catch her breath, he draped his entire body over hers, burying his head deeply in her neck, murmuring in a tone filled with longing,

"Cynthia, it's New Year's, and you really want to make me lose my mind, don't you?"

"What do you mean?"

She asked in confusion, breathing heavily, trying to fill her lungs with fresh air.