Please Let Me Go, My Contracted Ex-Husband.-Chapter 97 - - honeymoon

There were even people who dug up the story of Miss Cynthia Lancaster's mother, claiming that her biological mother was a dancer in a nightclub, who entered the Lancaster family only after seducing William S. Lancaster. They said "like mother, like daughter," implying that Cynthia herself was no simple person.

The overwhelming rumors made Cynthia exhausted. It would have been fine if they were just talking about her, but they had even dug up her long-deceased mother. She was truly hurt. The people she cared about were few, and any harm to them would sadden her deeply.

Moreover, her mother had been such a beautiful, graceful, and wonderful woman. How could anyone speak of her in such a disgraceful way? For a long time, she didn't dare to go outside, nor did she dare to watch television or go online. She stayed in her small apartment, isolated from the world.

Bonnie called her one day, saying, "Cynthia, why don't you go out and get some fresh air? The city is so chaotic, maybe you'd feel better if you left here for a while." But Cynthia couldn't even bring herself to speak a word in reply.

That day, after getting up, she casually glanced at the calendar, and suddenly felt a pang in her heart. It was just another ordinary day in mid-May, the weather outside calm and sunny. But she suddenly remembered that it was the anniversary of the day she married that man.

So today was technically her wedding anniversary with him—the extravagant wedding, the excruciatingly painful wedding night. Everything from that day was still vivid in her mind, as though it had just happened yesterday.

Sitting on the bed, staring at the calendar for a long time, she finally curved her lips in self-mockery: "Cynthia, how ridiculous you are... remembering this day?"

Soon after waking up, she received a call from Bonnie, inviting her to go to the library. For Bonnie, a literary talent, the library was heaven. For Cynthia, it was simply a quiet place to be, free from rumors, with only the fragrance of books and ink to keep her company.

After quickly tidying herself up, Cynthia went out the door. However, as soon as she stepped outside, she felt that something was off. For example, there was an unusually large business car parked in front of her building, a dark blue vehicle with heavily tinted windows, which sent a chill down her spine.

For some reason, she suddenly had a bad feeling. By the time she realized what was happening, she turned around to rush back inside the building. But it was too late. Several tall, burly men stepped out of the business car and swiftly grabbed her. She struggled and tried to scream, but one of them covered her mouth with a handkerchief. Everything went black, and she passed out.

Meanwhile, in the office of Albert Wilson, the CEO of BGIG:

Albert Wilson, wearing a gray suit, exuded a calm, wise, and distinguished air. He was focused on reviewing some documents, completely ignoring the beautiful secretary standing before him.

After a long while, once he had finished reviewing the stack of documents, he finally noticed his secretary had not left. Raising an eyebrow, he casually asked, "Is there something wrong?"

"Boss, I have something to report!" Monica said with a smile.

"Oh? What's this about? It's not some personal matter, is it?"

Albert Wilson glanced at her empty hands. If she had something to report, she would have brought her precious notebook.

Monica, annoyed by the way he was sizing her up, emphasized her tone, "Boss, it's not my personal matter, it's about your personal matter!"

Albert Wilson reclined in his chair, folding his arms, adopting a lazy yet captivating posture. He signaled with his eyes for her to continue. Monica stepped forward, eager to share her news.

"Boss, today is your wedding anniversary!"

Albert Wilson's lips curled slightly into a calm, indifferent smile.

"Then what?"

Of course, he remembered. He had personally chosen this day. How could he forget? From today onward, his grand revenge would officially begin.

"Then what?"

Hearing his nonchalant response, Monica finally lost her patience. She slammed her hand on the desk, her voice slightly raised.

"Boss, shouldn't you take little Cynthia out for something romantic? Like a trip or shopping? From what I know, you two never had a honeymoon!"

Albert Wilson narrowed his eyes and looked at her for a moment before finally responding with a thoughtful tone.

"That's a good idea!"

"Right?"

Monica was thrilled and quickly seized the opportunity.

"Hey, hey, boss, does that mean I'll get a raise?"

Just as she eagerly awaited a positive response, Albert Wilson's phone rang sharply. He answered, and after the person on the other end said one thing, his expression immediately darkened. Monica, noticing this change, instinctively shrank back.

From her years of observation, whenever her boss's face darkened, his brows furrowed, and his lips pressed into a thin line, it meant he was seriously angry.

She cautiously glanced at his face, and then heard her boss coldly say,

"What does her life or death have to do with me?"

Her heart skipped a beat. Whose life or death was he talking about?

Albert Wilson's voice was extremely cold, and the person on the other end of the line seemed to be taken aback by his lack of emotion. After a brief pause, the voice on the phone snarled with malice.

"Even if you don't care about her life or death, at least Vice President Wilson should come and collect his wife's body, right? So, here's the deal: at the stone bridge by the seaside. Let's meet, no excuses."

The person on the other end laughed ominously before hanging up.

"SHIT!"

Albert Wilson muttered under his breath, grabbing the car keys from the desk and storming out, his face darkened with rage. A gust of cold wind swept through as he rushed out the door, making Monica instinctively curl her arms around herself for warmth.

Albert Wilson drove towards the seaside. The person on the phone had said that today was his and her wedding anniversary, and someone was going to give them a special gift.

The closer he got to the sea, the stronger the salty, fishy scent in the air became, and his face gradually paled. His fingers tightened on the steering wheel, so much that his knuckles turned a ghostly white.

Years ago, when his parents had been left with no way out, they had thrown themselves into the sea on a cold snowy day, taking their own lives. His parents had died, but he had been fortunate enough to be saved by an old man named Diego, who happened to be passing by. Though his life had been spared, he had developed a deep aversion to the cold sea ever since.

That's why while other people chose beachside villas with scenic views, he had opted for a place deep within the city.

As he neared the sea and smelled that familiar, briny scent, memories of that cold, biting wind, the suffocating pain of the sea closing in around him, and the terror of watching his life slowly slip away flooded his mind, making him feel as though he were dying all over again.

He knew he could never be near the sea, yet here he was, driving furiously towards it. He wasn't sure if he was mad, but perhaps it was out of guilt for her. After all, someone with her calm, composed nature shouldn't have angered such a ruthless person. It was probably his enemies who were behind this.

That's why he had to save her! It had to be like that! He repeated this mantra in his mind as he held his breath, pressing the accelerator and speeding towards the stone bridge the person had mentioned.

This chapter is updat𝓮d by freēnovelkiss.com.

In the distance, he saw a white figure, held by a tall man wearing sunglasses, her back to him. Her wine-red hair was tousled by the sea breeze.