Called Off the Wedding, Left Him Bankrupt novel Chapter 367

Janice caught the faintly mocking look flickering in Cynthia’s eyes. For a moment, she was stunned, but in an instant she understood what Cynthia was really implying.

Her hand, hanging at her side, curled into a fist.

She had waited for Benedict for years.

And she was tired of waiting.

But now the Ormond family and Benedict were tangled up far too closely—she couldn’t afford to let Cynthia see through her, not yet, not here.

It was nowhere near the right time for Cynthia to find out.

“Cynthia, I know you misunderstood me because of something Miss Channing said last night. But there’s really nothing between me and Benedict. You’re the only one he cares about.”

“If what Miss Channing told you was true, then why did she sign a statement last night letting Benedict off the hook? After what he did to her, anyone else would have pressed charges. The fact that she agreed to let it go proves she didn’t have a leg to stand on.”

Cynthia had already guessed as much last night, when she saw Janice and Benedict return to the restaurant—clearly, Giselle hadn’t pressed charges, otherwise Benedict wouldn’t have been released.

But all of this was beside the point.

She’d only ever used Giselle’s words to unsettle Janice, nothing more.

“Miss Ormond.”

Cynthia’s lips parted, her voice cool and distant, her gaze coldly detached.

Janice’s expression faltered for a split second at the formal address.

“Cynthia…”

But Cynthia cut her off. “Benedict and I broke up. There’s no chance we’ll ever get back together. You’re here pleading his case—doesn’t that bother you even a little? Miss Ormond, why bother lying to yourself?”

Janice opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but Cynthia’s eyes were so resolute, so icy, that the words died before she could speak them.

Cynthia gave her a final, indifferent glance, her expression unreadable.

Left behind, Janice steadied herself against her own car so she wouldn’t collapse.

Cynthia’s words had made it painfully clear—she knew everything.

Janice hurried to pull out her phone and dialed Benedict’s number.

No answer.

She had no choice but to call her father.

“Dad, destroy all the family’s financial records—now. And get Uncle Mark to lay low for a while.”

“I think Cynthia’s onto me and Benedict.”

Taking investments under false pretenses—that was fraud.

If Cynthia really had evidence and pressed charges, there’d be nowhere left for them to hide.