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Chapter 42 - 42- Come with me
Cynthia thought he wouldn't let this go so easily. He'd definitely investigate every website and newspaper overnight. She warned Bonnie to be careful and told her if the higher-ups forbade them from publishing, she shouldn't push the issue and cause trouble.
After all the commotion, Doreen Lancaster had no mood left for drinking. She left, sobbing, following her agent, leaving the large private room empty except for Cynthia and him.
The atmosphere felt stifling. Cynthia lowered her head, silently reciting the verses from the *Book of Songs* that Mistress Extinction insisted they memorize: "The osprey sings, from the river's isle. Fair and graceful is the lady; a noble match." She repeated the lines over in her mind.
He stood there, silently staring at her, and Cynthia's scalp tingled under his piercing gaze, feeling as though it could burn a hole into her head. She even had the unsettling feeling that he already knew she had orchestrated the entire incident.
In the end, though, he said nothing. He simply let out a cold huff and turned to leave.
The next day, Bonnie's newspaper published the photo from the previous night. Its scandalous nature left everyone shocked—Doreen Lancaster, the proud and haughty daughter of the Lancaster family, turned out to be nothing more than a shameless woman.
However, Cynthia didn't anticipate that this would eventually implicate her as well. Everyone knew that Vice President Wilson was married, and now, just days into his new marriage, he was embroiled in this scandal with his wife's third sister. People were eagerly waiting to see how his wife would respond.
Bonnie called, asking her what she planned to do. At the time, Cynthia was working part-time teaching a yoga class at school, so she sighed and said she would stick with her original plan—had she known the fallout would reach her, she would have never set this scheme in motion.
After class that evening, Cynthia took a long bus ride back to her neighborhood. As she approached her building, she spotted a familiar tall figure waiting by the entrance. She wanted to turn and leave, but he had already seen her and was quickly striding over.
"Cynthia, why did you come back so late? It's not safe for a young woman to be walking alone at night," Vincent said, concern flashing in his eyes as he saw her tired expression.
Cynthia stood there, letting him come closer without saying a word, not knowing how he'd found out she lived here.
"And why are you living in such a shabby place? Shouldn't you be living with him at his house?" Vincent looked around at the rundown surroundings, his handsome brow furrowing tightly.
Cynthia, exhausted from her yoga class and the long commute, didn't have the energy to deal with him. She leaned against the wall, asking wearily, "Vincent, you didn't come all this way just to say that, did you?"
"Cynthia—" Vincent looked at her tired face, a hint of pain crossing his gaze. "I came here today to tell you that I've asked Grace for a divorce."
"What?"
Cynthia's face turned pale instantly. Her already weak body staggered, almost collapsing to the ground. Vincent rushed forward to steady her, then pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly as he whispered each word in her ear,
"I said, I've asked Grace for a divorce!"
How long had it been since he'd held her like this, without any fear of Wilson's scrutiny? Two years, perhaps. She felt so much thinner; he wondered what she'd been busy with every day. He'd heard that she barely attended classes over these past two years. Holding her now, feeling her warmth so vividly, he felt a pang of sorrow well up, almost bringing him to tears.
Cynthia didn't push him away, not because she wanted to be close, but because she was dizzy and weak, her vision dimming. His words filled her with despair—she had just resolved tonight to approach Grace Lancaster for a loan because the doctor had said her children's condition couldn't be delayed any longer.
With him bringing up divorce now, Grace Lancaster would surely hate her deeply. The money... that was now out of the question. Even though she was married and no longer involved with Vincent, Grace would blame her regardless.
Seeing that she didn't resist, Vincent held her even closer.
"Cynthia, you're not even living with him. I know your marriage is just a game. Come with me. Let's go somewhere far from all these entangling interests."
Clap—clap—
Just as Vincent finished speaking, they heard two crisp claps.
Cynthia quickly pulled away from Vincent's arms and looked toward the sound, only to see Albert Wilson standing in the moonlight, his signature smile on his face.
"What a touching declaration!"
He chuckled, but there wasn't a hint of warmth in his eyes.
Today, with the scandal involving him and Doreen Lancaster now implicating her, Albert decided to come over and talk to Cynthia. Most of all, he wanted to understand why she was working so tirelessly to make money. If she would only be honest with him, he would help her with whatever she needed, no matter the amount.
But instead, he walked into this scene of intimacy, which ignited a murderous rage in his cold eyes, spreading through the night like a dark, chilling threat.
Seeing Albert, Vincent instinctively pulled Cynthia closer, a gesture that only stoked Albert Wilson's anger further. His sharp gaze bore into Cynthia.
"Dear, are you planning to elope with someone?" he asked, his voice as icy as it was emotionless.
His words made Cynthia frown in irritation. She hadn't done anything to betray him, so was the sarcasm necessary? Even if she truly had something with Vincent, what right did he have to criticize her? Wasn't he tangled up with Doreen Lancaster himself?
With that thought, she lifted her head, her expression calm, and replied, "Right back at you. I was under the impression you were divorcing me to marry Doreen."
She'd only failed to push Vincent away because she was too drained from despair. Was there really any need for Albert to act as if he'd caught her in the act?
Albert's anger surged, threatening to consume him, and his tone grew even colder.
"Divorce? Isn't it you who wants a divorce so you can run off with your beloved?"
Cynthia felt he was being completely unreasonable. They had agreed from the beginning: they would divorce only if the Lancaster Empire went bankrupt. No matter what happened in between, she would never bring up the word "divorce"—unless he initiated it.
She glanced at him coolly. "Albert Wilson, I don't want to argue with you."
With that, she pulled away from Vincent's embrace and turned to head upstairs. She didn't want to see either of these men right now.
But unexpectedly, Vincent suddenly hugged her from behind, holding her tightly, his voice filled with sorrow.
"Cynthia, you can't be this heartless. I gathered all my courage to make this decision, and you're acting as if it means nothing to you."
After telling Grace Lancaster he wanted a divorce, he'd rushed over here to find Cynthia. He had used all his connections to locate her and was both shocked and overjoyed to learn she was living here after her marriage. At that moment, he felt a spark of hope—perhaps her relationship with that man truly was nothing more than a facade.
In the beginning, he and she had indeed only been using each other, but over time, the forces around them had gradually drawn them closer, until their fates were intertwined.
At first, she was merely a pawn in his game; but in the end, she became a thorn in his heart. Removing it would cause endless bleeding, perhaps even death. But if he left it there, he would be tormented by it, enduring agony day and night, worse than death.
Vincent's actions pushed Albert Wilson's anger to the breaking point. Without even looking at Vincent, Albert fixed his gaze on Cynthia, his voice chillingly composed as he ground out each word through clenched teeth.
"Dear, it seems I've been too busy lately and neglected you. Tonight, I'll make sure to make it up to you."
He reached his hand out to her, his tone devoid of warmth as he commanded, "Come here."
Though his words were calm, they carried an unyielding authority that brooked no refusal.
Sensing the fury radiating from Albert, Cynthia knew that if this continued, there was no telling what he might do. Vincent, just a public servant, could never stand a chance against someone as powerful as Albert, who maneuvered seamlessly through both the legal and the criminal worlds. Struggling to break free from Vincent's grasp, she tried desperately to pull away, but Vincent held her even tighter, refusing to let go.
Albert's gaze turned even colder.
"Do I need to handle this myself?"
Cynthia had no choice but to utter the harsh words that might finally make Vincent release her.
"Vincent, I think instead of standing here, you should go back and prepare yourself for the storm that's coming."
Vincent looked at her, stunned by her ruthless tone. He thought asking for a divorce would be the beginning of his freedom, a step toward her. But he didn't understand; Cynthia had already learned the hard lessons. She had seen clearly what was at stake long ago—otherwise, she wouldn't have so easily given him up, abandoning the only warmth she'd ever known.
As long as the Danny family and the Lancaster Empire existed, Vincent's marriage to Grace Lancaster was destined to be unbreakable. Whether he loved her or not, whether he was happy or not—this was the sorrow of political and economic alliances, the tragic fate of those born into influential families.
