Called Off the Wedding, Left Him Bankrupt novel Chapter 178

Assistant Shaw had just picked up some glucose for Dominic from the infirmary and was waiting downstairs when he spotted Cynthia helping Dominic out of the elevator.

A man who'd been walking perfectly fine just moments ago now looked as if he'd had a few too many—unsteady on his feet, needing someone to lean on.

Assistant Shaw couldn't help but arch an eyebrow. As Cynthia guided Dominic toward the car, Shaw let out a soft, sardonic chuckle.

"Putting on a show, aren't we?"

Dominic didn't respond. With Cynthia's steadying arm, he bent down and climbed into the back seat.

Once inside, though, his gaze flickered almost imperceptibly toward Assistant Shaw, as if to remind him he wasn't as out of it as he seemed.

Cynthia had already caught the sharp scent of alcohol on Dominic as she helped him. Just being near him made her feel lightheaded, almost as if she'd gotten a contact buzz.

After Dominic was settled, she turned to Assistant Shaw. "I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch what you said just now."

Shaw smiled, handing her the small bottle of glucose. "I said, would you mind giving this to Mr. Holloway? He could use it."

Cynthia accepted the bottle with both hands. "Of course."

Shaw gave her a slight nod, gesturing for her to get in. Cynthia quickly ducked into the car, realizing with a hint of irony that all her mental rehearsals that morning about how to talk her way into Dominic's car were now pointless—she'd ended up here naturally, with no effort at all.

Once she was inside, Shaw closed the door and got behind the wheel.

Cynthia bit her lip, glancing at Dominic. She spoke softly, "We're heading straight to the Tremaines, right?"

Shaw didn't answer. Instead, he met Dominic's eyes in the rearview mirror, waiting for instructions.

She managed a faint smile. "I… used to have a pretty low tolerance myself, so I always ended up playing nurse to my coworkers whenever there was a big night out. After a while, you get the hang of opening these."

Back when VistaSphere Group was just getting off the ground, Benedict, their founder, had practically drowned himself in whiskey trying to win over investors. Every meeting ended with him stumbling out, barely able to stand.

Cynthia couldn't hold her liquor, so she could never help him out by drinking with the clients. If an investor tried to pressure her into joining the toasts, Benedict always stepped in to shield her, taking twice the drinks himself. It wore on him, and soon she stopped going to those dinners altogether, waiting in the car to help him recover afterward. She'd gotten pretty good at opening those little bottles in those years.

Dominic accepted the bottle from her in silence. When she reached for a second one, he caught her hand, gently taking the unopened bottle from her palm and twisting it open himself before downing it in one go.

Cynthia froze, sensing his irritation. She was just about to say something to break the tension when Dominic leaned back, closed his eyes, and shut her out.

His face was carefully blank, but Cynthia couldn't shake the feeling that beneath that calm exterior, he was seething.