The driver pulled up to the entrance of The Cloudcrest Grand Hotel. Before the chauffeur could even get out to open the door, Cynthia had already let herself out.
"Thank you, Mr. Holloway. Sorry for the trouble."
They hadn't exchanged a single word the entire ride, but Cynthia wasn't one to neglect basic manners.
The man still sitting in the back didn't respond.
Cynthia pressed her lips together and, without another word, closed the car door gently.
But just as the door was about to latch, it was pushed open from inside.
She froze, startled, as Dominic stepped out, ducking his head to clear the doorframe.
Without a word or glance, he strode past her, his expression unreadable, those deep, dark eyes radiating a cold, unapproachable aura.
Cynthia stared for a moment, thrown off by his sudden move, then hurried after him. "Mr. Holloway, are you staying here tonight too?"
Dominic didn't answer. He didn't even spare her a glance, just kept walking.
Cynthia pursed her lips in annoyance. All she'd done was poke a little at his pride—she hadn't even really pushed, just prodded. And yet, he'd kept that icy expression the whole way here.
Clearly, she didn't know him as well as she thought. He wasn't just sharp-tongued—he was a master of the silent treatment.
She couldn't help thinking of her sister's frosty temperament. If the two of them ever got into a fight, who would win the cold war? Probably her sister.
Honestly, if she'd insisted on breaking off the engagement, her sister could have smoothed things over easily; with their history, just a word or two would have kept Dominic from letting the Holloway family make things difficult for the Tremaines.
But her sister had spent all these years avoiding any collaboration with the Holloways, never once backing down.
Dominic probably had no idea what to do about her.
No wonder, after all these years, he was still single.
He might have wanted to fish for some news about her sister from Cynthia, but she'd shut him down. That must have stung his ego.
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