I Refuse To Be Your Second Wife Billionaire Albert!

Chapter Four: He Refused to Let Me Go

Chapter Four: He Refused to Let Me Go

I finally reached my apartment building as the first hints of dawn began to lighten the sky.

The rain had eased into a soft drizzle by the time I parked, but my gown remained heavy and soaked, clinging uncomfortably to my skin. I climbed the stairs to my door, feeling the full weight of exhaustion settle over my shoulders.

The successful gala, the promising investor conversations, and the charged confrontation with Albert all blended into one overwhelming night that left me emotionally drained.

Once inside I kicked off my heels and peeled away the wet gown, letting it fall to the floor in a damp heap.

I slipped into a comfortable robe and moved to the kitchen, where I filled the kettle and prepared a cup of herbal tea. The warm mug between my hands offered a small comfort as I stood by the window overlooking the quiet city streets.

Steam rose gently from the tea while I stared at the elegant business card I had placed on the counter earlier. The international investor had seemed genuinely impressed with my work.

This could be the breakthrough Lumina Events needed for global recognition.

I took a slow sip, allowing the warmth to spread through me.

Albert Kingsley is married to my past, not my future, I reminded myself firmly. I had built this life on my own terms, and I would not let one night of unexpected encounters unravel the independence I had fought so hard to achieve.

The tea helped steady my nerves, but the echo of his words from the rain still lingered in the back of my mind. I set the mug down and moved to my bedroom, determined to push the thoughts aside and focus on the opportunities ahead.

*

Meanwhile, across the city, I strode into the towering headquarters of Kingsley Group. The building stood mostly empty at this early hour, but the lights in the executive offices remained bright.

I had come straight from the gala, refusing to return to my empty mansion. Marcus waited for me in the private conference room with several folders spread across the polished table.

"Report everything we know," I ordered as I removed my damp jacket and took my seat at the head of the table.

Marcus nodded and began detailing the findings. The mysterious woman had resurfaced in the city, making discreet inquiries through old contacts connected to my family and business circles. No clear identity had been confirmed yet, but her movements suggested a targeted interest in past events.

I listened with growing intensity, my jaw tightening at each new piece of information. The past had remained buried for years, and now it threatened to surface at the worst possible time.

"Increase security around Aurora Bennett immediately," I instructed without hesitation. "She must never know we are watching. Assign a discreet team. Find this woman before she reaches Aurora. I will not allow history to repeat itself."

Marcus made careful notes, acknowledging the orders. I leaned back in my chair, my thoughts drifting briefly to the woman who had driven away from me in the rain. Protection had become as important as pursuit. I refused to let her face unseen dangers alone, even if she wanted nothing to do with me.

*

Later that afternoon I sat at my desk in the Lumina Events office, reviewing notes from the gala, when my phone rang. The international investor from the previous evening greeted me warmly and extended a formal offer.

He wanted Lumina Events to organize an exclusive billionaire summit scheduled for the following month. The event would bring together influential figures from around the world, with a budget that far exceeded anything I had handled before.

It represented the largest contract of my career and a significant step toward international expansion.

Excitement surged through me as I listened to the details. This was exactly the kind of opportunity I had dreamed of building.

I accepted without hesitation, expressing my gratitude and outlining initial ideas for the summit. The investor sounded pleased with my enthusiasm and promised to send over the full project file shortly.

When the file arrived via secure email, I opened it with a sense of pride and anticipation. I scanned the first few pages, noting the impressive venue options and guest list projections.

Then my eyes landed on the client information section. The smile faded from my face as I read the words clearly displayed there.

CLIENT: KINGSLEY GROUP.

I stared at the screen for several long moments, my heart beginning to race. This could not be right. I immediately dialed the investor, his number still fresh in my recent call log.

"There has to be a mistake," I said when he answered, trying to keep my voice calm and professional. "The client listed for the summit is Kingsley Group."

"There is no mistake, Miss Bennett," the investor replied smoothly. "The chairman personally requested Lumina Events for this project. He was quite insistent after seeing your work at the charity gala."

I closed my eyes, leaning back in my chair as the pieces fell into place. "Albert," I whispered under my breath, the name carrying a mix of frustration and disbelief. He had refused to let me go.

Even after I had driven away into the rain, he had found another way to insert himself into my professional world. I thanked the investor politely and ended the call, my mind spinning with the implications.

The summit was too important to decline, but working directly under the Kingsley banner meant constant proximity to Albert. I wondered how far he would go to force this connection.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of preparations as I began outlining concepts for the summit despite my reservations.

Lumina Events needed this contract, and I refused to let personal history interfere with my business decisions. Still, the knowledge that Albert had orchestrated this opportunity left me unsettled.

Later that evening I stopped by an upscale cafe near my office to review more documents over a light dinner.

Two businessmen sat at a nearby table, engaged in casual conversation while they waited for their orders. I paid them little attention at first, until their discussion drifted toward familiar territory.

"Did you hear? Albert Kingsley's divorce was finalized months ago," one of them remarked in a low tone. "The settlement was kept very quiet. No public announcements, no media circus."

The other man nodded, sipping his coffee. "Interesting timing. The man has been even more ruthless in board meetings lately. Some say the divorce freed him to pursue other interests."

I froze with my fork halfway to my mouth. Divorced. The word echoed in my mind, repeating over and over. If that was true, why had no one reported it widely? Why had I not known?

And why had Albert looked at me with such intensity in the rain if his marriage had already ended? The questions multiplied, creating new layers of confusion around the man I had tried so hard to forget.

I set my fork down, no longer hungry. The cafe suddenly felt too warm, the chatter around me too loud. Albert Kingsley had reentered my life with deliberate force, and now even my greatest professional opportunity carried his shadow. I gathered my things and left the cafe, stepping out into the evening air.

The city continued its rhythm around me, indifferent to the turmoil inside me. Yet one thing had become painfully clear. He refused to let me go, and the path ahead would test every boundary I had built.