Called Off the Wedding, Left Him Bankrupt novel Chapter 60

He slammed his foot on the gas again and again, the engine roaring beneath him as he closed in on the car ahead—only to watch it swerve sharply onto a side street and vanish down a narrow lane.

He whipped the wheel around, making a frustrated U-turn, but by the time he got back, the other car was long gone.

Benedict cursed under his breath, circling the block a few times like a headless chicken. Finally, in a fit of irritation, he stomped on the brake, bringing the car to a sudden stop, and tugged at his tie in exasperation.

Lois, shaken by Benedict's earlier outburst, had kept silent during the chase. Now, with the car finally still, she spoke up cautiously.

"Benedict, Giselle's pregnant. Try not to upset her, alright?"

Giselle, pale and looking both pitiful and fragile, glanced up at Benedict with watery eyes.

"I'm fine, really. It's just… I'm worried about Cynthia."

Lois bit her lip hard, turning to Benedict with a scowl. "If she's cheating on you, then—"

Benedict cut her off sharply. "She's not!"

There was no way Cynthia, who loved him so much, would ever betray him.

Giselle's eyes filled with tears as she bit her lip, gazing at Benedict with a longing sort of hope.

"Please, Benedict, don't be angry. Aunt Lois didn't mean it like that. She's just worried about you."

With a frustrated huff, Benedict ran a hand through his hair and grabbed his phone again, dialing Cynthia's number one more time. Still no answer.

Giselle sat quietly in the passenger seat, silent and demure, though the joy in her eyes was hard to hide.

As long as Benedict started to doubt Cynthia, their relationship was bound to crack. It was only a matter of time before he gave up on her completely.

Lois opened her mouth to say more, but Giselle quickly shook her head at her, signaling her to stop. Their eyes met, silent schemes passing between them.

The car rolled into the underground parking garage just as Cynthia finally wrapped up her drawn-out battle, declining her opponent's offer of a crystal trophy.

When the word "Victory" flashed in bold letters across her game screen, a triumphant grin spread across her face. She waved her phone at Dominic.

"Bingo. Mission accomplished."

She looked away, embarrassed. "Sorry about that."

After all, he'd only gotten splashed because of her.

Dominic broke eye contact and headed toward the elevator.

The driver gave Cynthia a polite nod. "Miss Tremaine, this way, please."

Cynthia hesitated, lowering her voice. "I'll just wait in the car, if that's alright."

The driver didn't reply or shut the door.

Dominic's voice echoed from the elevator, cool and distant. "You keep apologizing, Miss Tremaine, but I don't see any effort to make up for it. So what exactly are you sorry for?"

A flush crept up Cynthia's ears. This man always managed to leave her at a loss for words.

The driver smiled kindly, leaning in to whisper, "Assistant Shaw's off today. Normally he lays out Mr. Holloway's wardrobe. I'm useless with these things, so I have to trouble you, Miss Tremaine."