Called Off the Wedding, Left Him Bankrupt novel Chapter 252

“Where to?”

His voice was low and intense, his gaze burning into her.

Cynthia’s breath hitched. “Didn’t you say you had a headache and wanted me to give you a massage?”

Only then did Dominic finally release her.

As Cynthia sat up, about to reach out and rub his temples, he shifted without hesitation, resting his head directly on her lap and closing his eyes, mumbling, “Go ahead.”

Cynthia blinked.

Was he always this clingy when drunk?

She placed her hands gently on Dominic’s forehead, working her fingers in slow, soothing circles. Looking down, she could see his striking features as he lay there, lashes long and dark against his cheek. Her heart skipped several beats. He seemed to have drifted off—his breathing was deep and even.

Cynthia called his name softly, “Mr. Holloway...”

He didn’t respond at all. He really was asleep.

She finally stopped, her arms aching slightly, and shook out her hands. Just as she tried to move his head from her lap, Dominic let out a disgruntled groan. Cynthia froze.

What a handful.

No wonder the driver had left with such a broad grin.

Resigned, Cynthia grabbed a pillow to prop up her back and settled in, figuring she’d wait until Dominic was in a deeper sleep before trying to move him again.

But as she waited, she nodded off herself.

—

In the middle of the night, Dominic woke. Opening his eyes, he saw Cynthia sleeping against the headboard. Maybe she was worried he’d roll off the bed, because one of her arms was still draped protectively across him.

She rubbed her neck, tossed back the covers, and got up. Habit made her reach for her phone to check the time, but she remembered—Dominic had tossed it out the window last night.

Cynthia groaned and smacked her forehead.

Dominic walked in, toiletries in hand, just as she shot him a look full of grievance.

There was a faint red mark on her neck, standing out starkly against her fair skin.

Dominic’s expression shifted almost imperceptibly. He averted his eyes, cleared his throat, and slipped into the bathroom. He squeezed toothpaste onto his brush, added water to the cup, and then called out softly to the woman sitting on the bed, “Come out for breakfast when you’re ready.”

With that, he left the bathroom and exited the bedroom.

Cynthia, still fuming, stomped into the bathroom. She grabbed her cup and was about to brush her teeth when she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror—the red mark on her neck was glaringly obvious. The cup slipped from her fingers and clattered to the floor.

Out in the hallway, Dominic leaned against the wall by the bedroom door. Hearing the commotion inside, he arched an eyebrow, a faint smirk curving his lips as he walked away.