Called Off the Wedding, Left Him Bankrupt novel Chapter 92

The problem was, Cynthia had sold her shares to Dominic.

If VistaSphere Group collapsed after that, it would be as if she'd handed Dominic a landmine, ready to blow up in his face.

But Cynthia already had a plan for pulling Tremaine Holdings out of its current troubles.

Her first step to reviving the company was to put an end to the long-standing conflict between the Tremaines and the Holloway family.

Back when the Holloways publicly announced they'd cut ties with Tremaine Holdings, it had dealt a real blow to the company's reputation.

If Dominic decided to partner with Tremaine Holdings again, it would be a huge sign of confidence to all those companies still hesitating on the sidelines.

Buying VistaSphere Group's shares was a good investment for Dominic—unless, of course, the company crashed. Then his shares would instantly become worthless.

Cynthia couldn't let that happen. She couldn't set a trap for Dominic just to solve her own problems. That would be shortsighted and self-defeating.

Jaw tight, Cynthia dialed the unfamiliar number.

The call was picked up almost immediately.

The voice on the other end was distorted, making it impossible for Cynthia to guess who it was.

Her repeated attempts to probe for information only seemed to irritate the caller.

"If you don't trust me, Miss Tremaine, then just wait for tomorrow's headlines in Cloudcrest City. Think of it as my wedding present to you and Mr. Shepard. I've got nothing to lose, after all."

Cynthia frowned, her grip tightening around her phone. Before the caller could hang up, she quickly interjected.

"How do you have nothing to lose? Three hundred thousand dollars isn't exactly pocket change. I'll need some time to pull that kind of money together—and I should at least discuss it with Father Benedict, don't you think?"

The reply was almost instantaneous. "No."

Cynthia's confusion was clear in her voice. "No to what?"

There was a brief pause. When the caller spoke again, their tone was lower, less angry, almost persuasive.

Raising three hundred thousand wasn't difficult for someone with her resources.

Still, she couldn't shake the uneasy feeling gnawing at her. This unexpected call had thrown her entire day into chaos.

She took a long breath, steadied herself, and started making arrangements for the cash.

By midday, she'd managed to gather the full amount.

The mysterious caller never messaged or phoned again.

Cynthia tucked the cash-filled bag into her trunk, then spent the rest of the day driving aimlessly around the city, waiting for further instructions.

When she passed a candle shop, she hesitated, then stopped and bought a packet of blank notes—the kind people burned at funerals—and tossed them in the trunk with the cash.

It wasn't until nine that evening that her phone finally rang.

"Miss Tremaine, it's almost time for our meeting. Do you have the money ready?"