Please Let Me Go, My Contracted Ex-Husband.-Chapter 112 - - Cynthia vs Lucca

As soon as Albert Wilson said this, his thoughts once again became clouded. Why was it that he could never bring himself to hate her with a deep, burning resentment? He tried to comfort himself, telling himself that because the Lancaster family treated her like an enemy, she unknowingly ended up standing on the same side as him. With this thought, the expression on his face softened considerably.

"No need, I can manage on my own..."

Cynthia turned her head, avoiding the concerned look in his eyes. His tenderness confused her, but before she could dwell on it, he firmly grabbed her and ordered Jim nearby.

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"Jim, take her back to the house."

She didn't refuse again. She had no strength to argue, so she followed Jim and left. At the Wilson family's mansion, the ever-busy butler had clearly been notified in advance and had already prepared a large spread of food.

She had no appetite and merely greeted them briefly before heading upstairs. The butler, however, wouldn't let go of her, continuing to chatter on.

"Madam, you've been on the go all day without eating anything. How can you keep up your strength? Besides, you need to be in good spirits to take care of Marc, don't you?"

Cynthia, unable to refuse his nagging, sat at the dining table. Fredy, not treating her as a stranger at all, brought all sorts of delicious food and drinks to her. As she ate, her eyes reddened. Fredy's care reminded her of Marc.

"Oh dear, Madam, why are you crying?"

Fredy, seeing her tears, quickly grabbed some tissues and handed them to her, standing there helplessly.

Had his incessant chatter upset her? He tried to control his temper; he wasn't this warm to everyone, but he couldn't help himself. He found this young girl so pitiful that he couldn't stop himself from being overly attentive.

"I'm fine..."

Cynthia took the tissue, wiped her tears, but had no mood to eat anymore. She decided to say goodbye to Fredy and head upstairs. Just then, the sound of a car braking came from outside, followed by the respectful voices of other servants.

"Miss Lucca, you're here!"

Cynthia's foot, about to step forward, froze in place. Fredy's gaze shifted awkwardly as well.

Before Lucca even entered, her aggrieved voice had already reached them.

"Fredy, you must stand up for Lucca..."

With those words of complaint, Lucca appeared before Cynthia and Fredy. She was on the verge of tears, her face wet from crying. Upon seeing Cynthia standing in the hall, she immediately froze.

"Mr. Wilson, Mrs. Wilson, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to..."

Lucca tried to downplay her relationship with Albert Wilson. After all, the fewer people who knew about it, the better. Most importantly, Cynthia was still a member of the Lancaster family.

Cynthia sneered, curling her lips.

"Miss Lucca, since you've already come to my home, there's no need for you to keep hiding it!"

Her words startled Fredy, and Lucca's face turned pale. How did Cynthia know about their relationship? She had thought she had hidden it so well!

"To keep something secret, one must first not do it!"

Cynthia said this indifferently before turning to head upstairs. She hadn't expected to expose Lucca's identity at such a painful moment.

Seeing her speak so openly, Lucca decided to stop hiding it as well.

"Cynthia, what are you doing here?"

Since she knew about her relationship with Albert Wilson, Lucca must also know that Albert married her simply to use her. So why would she still appear in his house?

Thinking this, a trace of hatred appeared on Lucca's seemingly gentle face, and her voice was full of questions and dissatisfaction.

However, it was exactly the tone of her questioning that irritated Cynthia. She was already feeling pent-up from the situation with Marc, and since Lucca insisted on provoking her, she would not hold back any longer.

She was not typically a sharp-tongued person, but when she became so, her words could devastate and leave the other person writhing in pain. She turned around gracefully, flashing a bright smile at Lucca.

"This is my home, Miss Lucca. Why do you think I'm here?"

Cynthia hadn't planned to argue with Lucca, but since Lucca insisted on provoking her, she wasn't going to let it slide. She had already tolerated Lucca's attitude for far too long. Since the day Vincent was shot, Lucca had despised her, and Cynthia's hatred for Lucca had grown deep as well.

Lucca was immediately left speechless, her delicate face turning red with anger. She took a deep breath to compose herself and maintain her elegance.

"Where have you been these past few days?"

For the last few days, no matter how much she tried to contact Albert Wilson, Jim kept saying he was away on business. She had a bad feeling because, in the past, even when he was away, he would still keep in touch. So she had someone investigate, and she found that Cynthia had also been missing around the same time.

"I don't owe you an explanation about my whereabouts."

Cynthia couldn't help but laugh. This woman was truly a self-important, arrogant young lady. Who did she think she was? What right did she have to question her in this manner?

"Did you go to France with him?"

Lucca's sharp eyes caught sight of the suitcases by the stairs, one large and one small. She could immediately tell that the large one belonged to Albert Wilson, while the small one clearly belonged to Cynthia.

"So what if it is?"

Cynthia replied without holding back, then turned and started to walk upstairs.

Lucca's calm expression was completely shattered. She was so furious that her chest heaved as she glared at Cynthia's indifferent back and shouted loudly,

"Cynthia, you're shameless!"

Cynthia, halfway up the stairs, immediately turned around upon hearing the insult. Her already cold eyes became even sharper.

"Miss Lucca, it's you who should be ashamed. Please take a good look at your current identity. Right now... I am his legally married wife, and you... are the most despised mistress."

Her words were slow and deliberate, each word sinking deeply into Lucca's ears, filled with mockery. Standing at the top of the stairs, Cynthia looked down, adding an air of superiority to her contempt.

Lucca was so enraged that she stood there for a long time, unable to say a word. In the end, she covered her mouth and ran out, crying.

Cynthia coldly glanced at the direction where Lucca had left, then turned and went upstairs.

Fredy, who had been standing silently, afraid to make a sound during the two women's confrontation, wiped the sweat from his forehead and cautiously looked toward the upstairs. Only then did he finally let out a long sigh.

Lucca's aggressiveness, Cynthia's calm response — it was clear who had won and who had lost. The one who lost their composure first had already lost the battle.

Fredy couldn't help but secretly admire Cynthia. She had responded to every move, seemingly passive but with every retort cutting deeply, until she had completely defeated Lucca.

Cynthia went upstairs to the bedroom she had once stayed in, and found that the bright red bedding was finally gone. She suddenly remembered that it had been more than a year since their wedding.

After tidying up a little, she threw herself onto the bed and fell asleep. At first, she couldn't sleep due to the pain in her heart, constantly thinking about Marc, his kindness, his care, his love. But eventually, as her heart grew numb with pain, she drifted into a deeper sleep.

She didn't know how long she had slept, but in a half-dream, she seemed to feel a warm body gently embracing her from behind. With that, she felt at ease and continued to sleep peacefully.