Called Off the Wedding, Left Him Bankrupt novel Chapter 179

Assistant Shaw pulled the car smoothly into Dominic's townhouse in The Capital—a private residence nestled in an upscale neighborhood. Without hesitation, he steered the car through the gates and parked right in the driveway.

As soon as the engine stopped, Cynthia was the first to step out. She turned back immediately, concern flickering in her eyes as she glanced at the man in the back seat, his expression tinged with discomfort.

She reached out, intending to help him, but Dominic was already exiting from the other side. He didn't so much as glance her way, heading straight for the front door with steady—almost defiant—steps.

Cynthia paused, momentarily taken aback. When did glucose become such a miracle hangover cure? she wondered.

Assistant Shaw approached her, pausing with his phone buzzing insistently in his hand. "Miss Tremaine, I have an urgent call to take. Would you mind heading upstairs and helping me choose Mr. Holloway's outfit for this evening?"

His tone was polite, but before Cynthia could answer, he was already walking away, the phone pressed to his ear—clearly not expecting any refusal.

She lingered for a couple of minutes, watching as Shaw paced deeper into the garden, still engrossed in his call. It didn't look like he was finishing up anytime soon.

Glancing at her watch, Cynthia realized the Tremaines' gala had already begun. They were running late, and her sister was probably under tremendous pressure by now. Without further hesitation, she headed into the house.

From somewhere behind, Assistant Shaw called out, "Second floor, all the way to the right."

Dominic paused, apparently surprised to find her there. His gaze softened ever so slightly as he replied in a low voice, "I'll leave it to you. You decide."

Cynthia glanced down thoughtfully, then finally chose the black tie with subtle charcoal stripes—it had a formal, dignified feel, perfect for the occasion. "Then… this one."

Dominic stepped closer, taking the chosen tie from her hand. His warm fingertips brushed her palm, sending an inexplicable jolt up her arm—a brief, electric sensation that left her palm tingling.

She pressed her lips together, trying to keep her composure. She told herself not to look, but her eyes kept drifting over to the bare skin exposed by the towel. No matter how she tried to convince herself otherwise, she couldn't help but admit—he really did have an incredible physique.