Called Off the Wedding, Left Him Bankrupt novel Chapter 88

After Lois pressed him for details, Benedict finally told her how Cynthia had reacted.

Lois had always resented the way Benedict indulged Cynthia, and now that she'd finally found an opportunity, she was determined to push Benedict to take control.

"You two are about to get married—does she really think she can turn the world upside down?" Lois scoffed. "Her grandmother's passing wasn't your fault. The only thing you did was not take her there yourself. And men, well, it's perfectly normal for them to have friends outside the relationship. But Cynthia? She even wants to dictate who you spend time with. That's just too much."

"In my opinion, she's putting on a show—trying to assert her dominance before the wedding. If you give in now, she'll walk all over you once you're married."

For once, Benedict listened in silence, letting Lois unload all her grievances without interrupting.

Giselle stood nearby, quietly enjoying the spectacle and waiting to reap the benefits of the fallout.

Benedict had made up his mind to give Cynthia the cold shoulder.

Since that night, he hadn't sent Cynthia a single message, nor had he tried to contact her in any way.

Days slipped by.

There were only two days left until their wedding.

Cynthia still hadn't reached out to him.

During this time, Benedict deliberately spent his nights out drinking with Zachary and the others, making sure word got back to Cynthia. But she didn't seem to care, nor did she make any effort to contact him. It was as if she had simply given up.

The more Benedict stewed over it, the more frustrated he became, and Zachary and the others bore the brunt of his foul mood.

Knowing about the tension between Benedict and Cynthia, Zachary shamelessly sidled up to him one evening.

"Benedict," he said, "as long as your fiancée hasn't called off the wedding, she still cares about you. But Cynthia—she's got a stubborn streak a mile wide. If you don't put her in her place, she'll never show you any respect."

Benedict's grip tightened around his glass, knuckles white.

He'd tried everything he could think of, but nothing made any difference with her.

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