Called Off the Wedding, Left Him Bankrupt novel Chapter 335

Dominic saw Cynthia seize the olive branch he’d offered without a moment’s hesitation. A fleeting smile flickered in those deep-set eyes of his.

She followed him inside, trailing just a step behind.

He wheeled her suitcase down the hallway and stopped in front of a door. Pushing it open, he announced, “This is your room.”

Cynthia nodded and stepped in.

She glanced around, taking in the so-called “maid’s room,” and couldn’t hide her surprise. Turning back to Dominic, she raised an eyebrow. “You call this a maid’s room?”

Honestly, it could rival her old room at the Tremaines’ estate.

There was a queen-sized bed, a wardrobe, a private bathroom, even a dressing table—and, unbelievably, a walk-in closet.

Who on earth gives the maid her own walk-in closet? Did he expect her to change uniforms every few hours?

Dominic just nodded, unfazed. “That’s right.”

Cynthia pressed her lips together, then flashed him a winning, slightly mischievous smile. “Mr. Holloway, if the Tremaines ever go bankrupt, can I put in an application to be your housekeeper?”

Dominic met her radiant gaze and nodded. “Approved.”

“Much obliged.” Cynthia executed an exaggerated little bow, one hand hovering comically near his elbow, playing the part of a loyal servant. “If you’ll excuse me, sir, I should tidy up a bit. The place is cluttered with my unsightly things. Wouldn’t want to offend your eyes—let me show you out.”

Dominic couldn’t help but laugh at her obsequious act. He flicked her forehead lightly.

“Ow!” Cynthia yelped, rubbing her head. “You—”

He looked thoroughly satisfied. “Get to it, then.” And with that, he left the bedroom.

Cynthia set about unpacking, hanging her clothes in the wardrobe. She only managed to fill a single section. The rest of the spacious closet loomed, empty, making her modest collection look even more pitiful.

Her indifference clearly got under his skin, but he pressed on. “If you’re coming back to work, you could at least act like a manager. You’re absent half the time—what does that say to the team?”

Cynthia shrugged, even though he couldn’t see it. “I don’t get paid. Doesn’t seem like my absence matters much.”

Benedict bristled at her apathetic tone, though part of him felt relieved—her attitude was proof enough she had no interest in challenging his position at the company.

“You blocked me,” he grumbled. “Unblock my number so I can reach you.”

“Not necessary,” Cynthia replied, bored.

He took a deep breath, trying to rein in his temper. “How is it not necessary? I need to discuss work with you.”

“We can talk about work during business hours,” she said lazily. “I don’t take work calls in my free time.”

There was a beat of silence, then Benedict’s voice grew rough. “Don’t forget—we have our class reunion tomorrow. Or has that slipped your mind?”