Please Let Me Go, My Contracted Ex-Husband.-Chapter 32 - - Please don’t disturb!

The next day, Vincent stood at the civil affairs bureau and received a marriage certificate with a woman he could barely be called familiar with. The following day, a grand wedding was held, and by the third day, Karl was released, taking over the position of the former chief prosecutor, rising from deputy to chief.

Three days later, when he met his girl again, everything had changed; she had become his sister-in-law, and he had become her Vincent.

What followed was endless pain in Boston. They met as strangers; he watched helplessly as she transformed from an innocent girl into a cold, hardened woman covered in thorns. He felt heartbroken and distressed, but it was already too late. She hated him, deeply and profoundly.

It wasn't just the heartache of being abandoned by him; it was also the scorn from Grace Lancaster and Doreen Lancaster after he left her that was the most lethal, for he had once been her only source of pride before them.

He had later tried to explain himself to her, but she merely smiled with indifference, pressing her lips together.

"Vincent, perhaps this is fate!"

Then she turned away decisively, leaving without a trace of nostalgia.

Years passed, and he could no longer approach her. She would smile at him, talk to him, yet her eyes were filled with detachment, and she would call out his name with the biting tone of "Vincent."

The day after her unpleasant parting with Albert Wilson, Cynthia received a call from him during class. Looking at the flashing number on her screen, she felt an itch of anger; since it was inconvenient to answer the call during class, she hung up immediately.

He called relentlessly, so she angrily typed out a text message:

"I'm in class! Do not disturb!"

Finally, her phone fell silent. The teacher at the podium was passionately lecturing, and she sat by the window, warm sunlight streaming in. Feeling slightly drowsy, she enjoyed the moment, believing that time was passing beautifully.

This teacher was notoriously difficult to deal with, yet Cynthia had to return to her class. Bonnie admired the teacher, praising her independence and strength, which made Cynthia wonder if Bonnie would develop in the same direction as the teacher.

Just then, her phone vibrated, breaking her peaceful moment. She looked down and saw it was a message from him:

"Surprising! I heard your absences exceed your attendance. Is the sun rising in the west today?"

She felt an urge to throw her phone out the window. Wasn't he the chief of BGIG? During this prime work time, did he have the leisure to send sarcastic texts?

This was a classical literature class taught by the strict teacher. Out of all her classes, this was the one she studied hardest because the teacher never allowed cheating in her exams. Thus, she memorized the difficult classical texts, treating them as a remedy for her peace of mind during her free time.

Just as she had recited a few lines, her phone vibrated again. With resignation, she opened it:

"Dinner at home tonight!"

The arrogant tone left no room for negotiation.

She was infuriated, and her fingers flew across the keyboard as she angrily typed back, just about to say: "Sorry, I have to work tonight,"when another message came in:

"The old man is there, go put on a show for him!"

It seemed he anticipated her refusal, so he directly cut off all her thoughts. She remembered their previous discussions, where they had agreed that in certain necessary situations, they still had to put on a show for each other.

The teacher seemed in a good mood, breaking her usual stern demeanor to joke, causing a wave of laughter to fill the large classroom. Everyone turned to look at her, and she felt her face flush with embarrassment as she sat down, mentally cursing the ancestors of a certain someone.

"I got it!"

She reluctantly replied with three words.

Bonnie, who had been staring at her in surprise, noticed she had a new phone. After Cynthia sat down, Bonnie grabbed it and whispered excitedly,

"Wow! Cynthia, your phone is so cool! What brand is it? Where did you buy it?"

"Uh..."

Cool? Cynthia felt a twinge of annoyance. She laughed awkwardly to brush off Bonnie's curiosity.

"It was a gift; I don't know where it's from!"

Bonnie noticed the dragon pattern on the back of the phone case and immediately understood. After all, her dad was connected to the underworld, so she knew a bit about the rules of BlackRock.

She leaned in with an ambiguous smile, saying,

"Oh, it wasn't a gift from Vice President Wilson, was it?"

Although it was framed as a question, her tone was certain. Probably no one in BlackRock would dare to give a phone representing exclusive identity to the wife of Vice President Wilson—except for Albert Wilson himself.

Cynthia shot her a glare and quickly put her phone back in her pocket, clearly indicating she didn't want to continue this topic. Bonnie picked up a book to shield herself from the sharp gaze of the strict teacher and continued gossiping.

"Looks like you two have a pretty good relationship!"

Bonnie, a talented student from the literature department, aspired to be a journalist who spoke with facts, so gossip was one of the essential qualities she needed.

Cynthia understood her temperament well and decided to change the subject.

"If you like this phone, we can swap!"

Bonnie quickly waved her hands, saying,

"No, no, no! I wouldn't dare take it!"

Seeing her terrified expression, Cynthia frowned.

"What's there to be afraid of? If you like it, we can switch; I'm not that fond of it anyway!"

That's how it was between girls; if one had a nice piece of clothing, shoes, or bags, they would swap and share. It was the same for the two of them, so why was this phone something Bonnie avoided like the plague?

Although the phone looked understated, the dragon design was sharp and striking, always reminding her of that man. She didn't want to use it at all, but now she had no extra money to buy another one, so she had to make do with it for the time being.

Bonnie asked softly,

"Don't you know what this phone represents?"

Cynthia was puzzled,

"It's just a phone. What significance could it possibly have?"

"Um..."

Bonnie's expression suddenly became serious. Cynthia felt uneasy under her intense gaze, not understanding why she had shifted to such a solemn tone.

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Meanwhile, Bonnie thought to herself: It seems Cynthia doesn't know what this phone represents. She clearly doesn't want to have any ties to Albert Wilson. If I tell her, it might create more complications in her heart. It's better to pretend I don't know and see what Vice President Wilson truly thinks of Cynthia.

Speaking of which, why did Vice President Wilson randomly give Cynthia a phone? It seems I need to continue playing my role as a journalist, analyzing every little clue. Why not treat the story between these two as my internship project?

With this thought, she couldn't help but smile secretly. Cynthia was taken aback by her unpredictable expression, and just then, the class bell rang, and everyone in the classroom let out a long sigh of relief, herself included.

Meanwhile, in the office of the BGIG president, Albert Wilson proudly held up his phone and said to the old man Long Sheng sitting across from him,

"Okay, my wife agreed to have dinner with me tonight. Can you head home now?"

The old man leaned over to glance at the content of the message and glared at him, saying,

"I warn you, don't try any tricks on me!"

"Hey! Old man, do I need to use tricks? Am I unable to even command my own wife? You underestimate me too much!"

Albert Wilson immediately protested unhappily, while secretly grinding his teeth, thinking that if it weren't for the previous agreement, that damned woman would have likely refused him without hesitation.

What's more, she said: "I'm in class. Please don't disturb!"

It had almost caused him to lose face in front of the old man.