Please Let Me Go, My Contracted Ex-Husband.-Chapter 181 - - never meet again

In the taxi, Cynthia urged the driver to speed up, desperate to get home as fast as possible. She had no more tears to shed. Her empty eyes stared blankly out the window as the scenery blurred by, her heart a barren wasteland.

Perhaps the deepest pain didn't come from the mess of betrayals or hurt, but from the lack of trust from the one she loved most.

Inside her small apartment, she didn't hesitate. Grabbing a pen, she signed her name on the divorce agreement. When it was done, she stared at the bold, unmistakable characters on the stark white paper. Her chest tightened, and she closed her eyes in sorrow, turning her face away.

From the bedside drawer, she retrieved a medical report. Taking a deep breath, she spoke softly to herself,

"Baby, from now on, it's just the two of us... leaning on each other for the rest of our lives."

The moment her words fell, the door burst open. Albert rushed in, his expression filled with unprecedented panic and urgency. Startled, Cynthia quickly shoved the report back into the drawer. Rising to her feet, she clutched the signed divorce papers and smiled coldly at him.

"Albert, have you gotten everything you needed from me?"

Albert felt a sharp, suffocating pain in his chest, leaving him unable to breathe. He stood there, dazed, as she smiled at him with a detachment that made his heart ache. She continued, her voice calm but cutting,

"Albert, whether you ever loved me or not, I still want to thank you. Thank you... for letting me know what it felt like to be loved, even if it was just an illusion."

His tall frame swayed as if struck. He didn't understand why, but the sight of her distant, unburdened smile was unbearably piercing. His heart was still beating, yet it no longer felt like it belonged to him.

"Well then, Albert," she said with an air of finality, her voice laced with quiet determination.

"From this moment on... may we never meet again."

She finished speaking with a cold smile and flicked her wrist, letting the divorce papers flutter to the ground like snowflakes, scattering before him. Without a second glance, she walked past him lightly, her figure disappearing from his reach.

Never again! Never see him again! Not even in death! she thought with resolute finality. If they were to meet again, she hoped he would be destitute and struggling. That was her only wish at this moment.

"Cynthia—"

His voice trembled as he called out, instinctively reaching for her. But his grasp fell on empty air. She was gone.

He had lost her. Truly lost her.

He stood there, rooted, watching her walk away, her steps firm and unyielding, the door slamming shut behind her. He forgot how to react, how to move.

Pain tore through his chest, unbearable and suffocating. After a long silence, he murmured her name,

"Cynthia... Cynthia..."

Then, with desperation etched on his face, he bolted after her.

In his mind, a single thought burned brightly, obliterating all others: I don't want a divorce. I don't want a divorce anymore. I just want her back, quietly staying by my side.

He had once believed he couldn't sleep at night without exacting his revenge. But now, faced with losing her, he realized that life without her would be the ultimate nightmare. Nothing else mattered—not the grudges, not the vendettas. Otherwise, why had he hesitated and delayed, letting the Lancaster empire collapse piece by piece?

Unbeknownst to him, she had already become the center of his world.

When he reached the building's entrance, all he saw was her slender figure disappearing into a taxi. Without hesitation, he jumped into his car, slamming on the gas, determined to catch up.

Inside the taxi, Cynthia didn't know where she wanted to go. She simply urged the driver to drive as far away as possible. All she wanted now was to escape, to put as much distance between them as she could.

The car drove for what felt like an eternity. Suddenly, the driver spoke,

"Miss, that car behind us has been following me relentlessly. Do you know the person? And, uh... you've been crying a lot. Did you have a fight with your boyfriend? He seems pretty desperate. Maybe you should talk to him?"

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Cynthia raised her hand to wipe her face, startled to find it wet with tears. She had thought she could no longer cry. But somehow, without realizing it, the tears had come anyway.

She glanced back in a somewhat panicked state at the car about to catch up to her. At that moment, the taxi turned into a slightly secluded area. She hastily pulled out a bill and threw it to the driver.

"Driver, please stop the car here!"

The driver gave her a puzzled look but stopped the car. Cynthia quickly got out, glanced at the car chasing her, and hurriedly ran into a warehouse-like building ahead. She didn't want to see anyone right now; all she wanted was to hide quietly by herself.

Albert had followed her all the way to this place. At this moment, he didn't want to do anything else—he just wanted to bring her back, hold her in his arms, and say, "Cynthia, let's not get a divorce. I can't bear to be without you. Let's forget the hatred, the misunderstandings, and start over. Please."

The moment he saw her taxi come to a stop, he slammed on his brakes and hurriedly got out to chase her. However, just as he turned the corner and saw the rundown warehouse, a deafening explosion erupted from inside, followed by one blast after another. The entire warehouse was instantly engulfed in flames.

From the very first explosion, Albert froze in place. It was only thanks to the driver of the taxi Cynthia had just been in, who jumped out of the car and dragged him away with all his might, that he managed to escape with his life.

When the explosions finally ceased, Albert, covered in dust, climbed up from the ground. Turning back, he saw the warehouse engulfed in flames. His heart sank. He thought of the last image of her slender figure rushing into that building and couldn't stop himself from shouting at the top of his lungs:

"Cynthia—!"

Then, like a madman, he charged toward the inferno.

"Young man, you can't go in there!"

The driver rushed to grab him from behind.

"The explosions, the fire—no one inside could possibly survive! If you go in, you'll just be throwing your life away!"

The driver sighed, lamenting the tragic fate of these two young people. What could have been so insurmountable that they had to quarrel until the sky turned dark? And now, here they were—one consumed by the flames, the other left to face the grief.