Please Let Me Go, My Contracted Ex-Husband.-Chapter 167 - - Albert, you devil

That night, Cynthia was working the night shift alone at the small clinic. Normally, Gary would handle the night shifts since it wasn't entirely safe for a young woman to be there alone at night. Most of the time, she and Victoria worked during the day, while Gary covered the evenings.

Sitting quietly at the desk, Cynthia focused intently on reviewing the patient cases from earlier that day. She carefully documented any special circumstances so she could provide personalized attention when those patients returned.

She wore a crisp white lab coat over a black turtleneck sweater. Her smooth black hair, freshly dyed to its natural shade, was parted in the middle, framing her delicate features before cascading softly over her shoulders.

A few days ago, she had cut off the curls and dyed her hair black again. Running a modest clinic like this, she realized that maintaining a cold and glamorous appearance might intimidate patients.

This simple and clean look enhanced her refined features, and the bright light illuminated her already fair and translucent skin, lending her an aura of quiet dignity befitting a doctor.

At around ten o'clock, just as she finished updating the day's cases, the clinic door suddenly flew open with a loud *bang.* Startled, she looked up and saw him—his brows, hair, and shoulders dusted with snow, his expression dark and brooding as he strode in.

The moment he stepped into the small clinic, the strong smell of alcohol and acrid smoke filled the air. She glanced at him briefly, her expression calm, before lowering her gaze to continue organizing her files. Yet, the trembling of her fingers betrayed her, and her heart thudded uneasily.

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She had thought... he wouldn't appear before her again.

In truth, if he hadn't sought her out tonight, she wasn't planning to see him either. It wasn't that she had given up so easily, but rather, she deeply understood the unbridgeable chasm between them. The more they clung to each other, the more it would hurt in the end.

Each of them stood firmly in their own world. For either of them to abandon their position would only lead to inner turmoil. Perhaps it would be better to remain estranged like this, waiting for the day the Lancaster Empire crumbled, when they could part ways peacefully.

Perhaps someone would ask: if she truly didn't intend to continue, why not just confront him openly and discuss breaking up, divorcing? If I said it was because she couldn't bear to let go, would you believe me?

When a relationship can't go on but you can't bring yourself to leave, the deeper the love, the more painful the wound. What kind of ill-fated bond brought them together into this destined entanglement, forcing them into such a dilemma?

He strode forward and, without hesitation, grabbed her wrist, yanking her out of her seat. His cold, piercing eyes locked onto hers, which remained calm and unyielding.

"Enjoying yourself, aren't you?"

He finally spoke, his voice dripping with sarcasm, unleashing the fury that had been simmering inside him for days.

She stayed silent, avoiding his gaze to look at her wrist, now reddened from his grip. She struggled slightly but, failing to free herself, gave up and simply stood there with her eyes lowered. She knew she could never win against his force.

He abruptly raised his other hand and grabbed her face, forcing her to meet his gaze as he barked,

"Speak!"

Her eyes blinked, stinging slightly, but she bit her lip and remained silent. She truly didn't know what to say. Should she say "Hello"? Or ask, "Why did you drink so much?" Either option felt inappropriate, forced. So instead, she chose silence.

Albert was already seething with rage. It had been days since she left before he finally discovered what had happened. He saw the numerous missed calls from Fredy and, assuming they were just more attempts to persuade him to come back, ignored them.

By the time he returned home, Fredy told him she had packed her things and left that night after hanging up the phone. His fury erupted. He smashed everything in the bedroom.

What? One suggestive phone call, and she couldn't handle it? And yet, when she called Vincent, had she ever considered how *he* might feel?

These past few days, he had stubbornly refused to seek her out, but he never imagined she would vanish as if she had disappeared entirely, leaving no trace or message. He had to admit that this woman's coldness was enough to make one's heart ache.

Fuming, he stormed over to her small apartment only to find it empty. This woman, out late at night, not even returning home?

Filled with even more anger, he came here instead, only to see her sitting calmly, writing something, as if her days were peaceful and carefree. There was no sign of anguish or heartbreak. His rage finally reached its breaking point.

And now, her unending silence was driving him mad. With a burst of strength, he dragged her toward the back room of the clinic while speaking furiously,

"Not talking, huh? Fine! I have ways to make you speak. Cynthia, don't blame me for being ruthless!"

The back room of the small clinic wasn't particularly large but contained a few beds for patients who needed intravenous drips. Seeing him pulling her in that direction, Cynthia's heart immediately sounded the alarm. She struggled desperately and cried out,

"What are you doing, Albert? Let me go!"

"Now you decide to talk?"

Her feeble resistance was no match for him in his fury. He roughly flung her inside, kicked the door shut, and fixed her with a gaze full of icy hostility.

"I'm telling you, it's too late to speak now!"

As his words fell, he began unbuttoning his wool coat, his piercing gaze never leaving her. The longer he stared, the more the intensity in his eyes turned to a smoldering heat.

Realizing his intent, Cynthia nearly fainted from terror. She began inching toward the door and stammered,

"Albert, w-what are you doing? You can't— not here— ah—!"

Before she could finish, he grabbed her back and flung her onto the low bed. His nearly naked, muscular frame followed, pressing down on her against the simple bed.

"Ah—!"

She struggled with all her might, letting out a sharp scream.

Instead, he snorted softly and laughed out in her ear, only that laughter didn't even reach the bottom of his eyes, he was clearly laughing but contained a strong sense of indifference and mockery, and

'What? You want all your patients in this neighbourhood to know that Dr Lancaster is in there making love to a man. Do you want all your patients around here to know that Dr Lancaster is in there having sex with a man?'

When he said that Cynthia stopped screaming, her white face was filled with the misery of a sore Boston, she bit her teeth and cursed him, 'Albert, you bastard!

'Albert, you devil--'

He did not think but laughed more frivolously, his big hand nonchalantly probed into her white coat under the shirt in her smooth and tender skin wandering, with the smell of wine lips is to come up to be kissed on her.

Such a scene could not help but remind Cynthia of the ambiguous voice coming from the phone that night, her heart ached and she closed her eyes and turned her head away.

'Don't you have so many women outside? Why come and force an unwilling woman?'

Her repulsive look makes Albert's eyes suddenly covered with coldness, the next second he lowers his head and bites her sensitive earlobe and says.

'The more reluctant you are, the more exciting it is to fuck, don't you think?'

Cynthia unbelievably opened her eyes and looked at him, the bottom of her clear eyes were full of hurt, she didn't expect him to say such cruel and unforgiving words, when did they even come to such a situation of hurting each other?

However, she did not have more time to grieve, his big hand had already unbuttoned her jeans, she struggled for a long time but finally did not resist his force.

There was no foreplay, no caressing, he didn't even remove her upper body's clothing, he just rushed into her completely dry and tight lower body, and she cringed in pain sharp nails pinched hard into his arm.

Not only her pain, he also pain, but the more this bloodthirsty pain more attracted that burning more and more swelling, he desperately want to use the most primitive and direct way to prove that she belongs to him, so the hot blood rushed straight to the head after he slammed his eyes closed to hold her waist, regardless of the crazy rhythm up.

Cynthia almost cried out at the pain that ripped through her lower body, but she bit her lip to keep from making any sound in response as he slammed into her like a madman, taking her deeper and deeper until he was on top of her. . possessing her until he fell on top of her and released himself with a ragged gasp.