Called Off the Wedding, Left Him Bankrupt novel Chapter 245

At five o’clock sharp, Cynthia packed up and left the office, making sure her team clocked out alongside her. For now, their only task was to get acquainted with the company’s layout and gain a clear understanding of VistaSphere Group’s latest projects.

None of this was hard for them. In fact, it felt more like a waiting game—saving their energy for when the real work began, once Benedict was finally out of the picture.

Cynthia headed straight to the parking garage, only to find her usual spot empty. It took her a moment to remember: she’d taken a cab that morning. Her car was still at Dominic’s apartment, parked in his building’s garage.

She turned around and headed back upstairs, exiting through the lobby. Standing in front of VistaSphere Group’s main entrance, she pulled out her phone to message Jenny Selwyn. Just as she hit send, Benedict’s black sedan rolled up and stopped right in front of her.

“Get in,” he ordered, lowering the window. His voice was clipped, laced with irritation.

Cynthia didn’t even glance at him. She simply stepped aside, pretending not to notice.

Benedict frowned, then pulled the car around to block her path again. This time, he got out, slammed the driver’s door, and strode toward her.

“I’ll drive you home.” He reached out and grabbed her arm, giving her no chance to protest as he yanked open the passenger door, clearly intending to shove her inside.

Furious, Cynthia lashed out—kicking and shoving him with all her strength. “Let go of me! I’m not getting in your car!”

Her shoes left several dusty prints on his perfectly pressed black slacks, but Benedict refused to release her, gripping her arm tightly as he tried to force her toward the seat.

Seething, Cynthia waited until he bent down to push her in, then grabbed a fistful of his hair, yanking with everything she had, wishing she could rip it straight from his scalp.

Benedict winced in pain, tightening his hold on her arm. Cynthia was half-pushed into the passenger seat, but she wouldn’t give in—her feet remained planted on the pavement, her body sliding downward as she resisted with all her might.

Cynthia immediately set the record straight. “We’re not married. He offered me a ride, I said no, and now he’s trying to force me into his car.”

Murmurs rippled through the bystanders. Judging by their faces, they thought Benedict was some kind of creep or worse.

The insults were getting ugly. Benedict gritted his teeth and finally revealed, “I’m Benedict, CEO of VistaSphere Group. We’re just having a disagreement—nothing as dramatic as you’re all imagining.”

As he spoke, he felt a warm trickle on his forehead. He touched it and found blood on his fingers. With a bitter smile, he glanced at Cynthia, his eyes wounded. “You really don’t hold back, do you, Cynthia?”

This was a business park; most of the onlookers worked nearby. A few recognized Benedict and, not wanting trouble, started to drift away, dragging their friends with them.

Even the man who’d intervened looked uneasy after realizing Benedict’s identity. “You two should talk it out. No need for this kind of scene,” he mumbled before hurrying off.