Called Off the Wedding, Left Him Bankrupt novel Chapter 4

Cynthia glanced at Giselle and noticed her gaze lingering on the wedding dress in the assistant's arms, her eyes shining with undisguised longing.

A flicker of coldness flashed across Cynthia's face as she spoke up.-

"Do you like it?"

Giselle didn't hesitate for a second.

"I do."

After answering, she stole a cautious glance at Benedict. Seeing the chill in his eyes, she added with a timid, almost wistful smile,

"Though I love it, not every woman is as lucky as Cynthia—to wear the dress she wants and marry the man she loves."

Her eyes dropped, her disappointment plain as day.

Cynthia glanced at the inscrutable man standing at her side, then turned to the assistant with a calm voice.

"I'm not feeling well today, so I'd rather not try anything on. She seems about my size—let her try it for me."

She wouldn't touch the dress after what those two had done with it; she didn't even want to risk catching something from it.

The staff hesitated, nervously glancing at Benedict for direction.

Benedict kept his eyes fixed on Cynthia, his expression dark and unreadable.

Giselle, on the other hand, showed no such restraint. With her trademark sweet smile, she stepped forward.

"Of course. It's an honor to try on a wedding dress for Cynthia."

She reached for the dress without waiting for permission.

The assistants exchanged helpless looks, then turned uncertainly toward Benedict, silently seeking his approval.

His dark eyes glinted with a warning as he looked at them, his mood icy and tense.

Giselle bit her lip, suddenly unsure of herself.

Cynthia slipped Benedict's hand from her waist and dropped onto the nearest sofa, urging,

"Well? Go on, then."

Giselle quickly recovered her composure, took the dress from the assistant, and disappeared into the fitting room.

Benedict, frowning, sat beside Cynthia, clearly preparing to voice his displeasure. Before he could speak, Cynthia raised her eyes and, with a hint of a smirk, asked,

"Aren't you going in to help her?"

Everyone in the room froze.

The staff—especially those who'd served Benedict and Giselle the day before—could barely contain themselves. Thank goodness they hadn't taken the day off; this was front-row drama.

"How can you return something to me as if it's brand new when it's already this filthy?"

Giselle stood there, pale and stricken, completely at a loss.

Benedict's expression grew stormy as he strode over and seized Cynthia's wrist, intending to drag her out.

But Cynthia twisted, and with all her strength slapped him across the face.

The crack echoed through the shop.

Silence.

She'd used so much force that her own hand went numb.

Benedict stared at her with a look so cold it was almost vicious.

No one dared meet his eyes—not the staff, not even Giselle, who barely breathed.

Since VistaSphere Group took root in Cloudcrest City, Benedict had never suffered such humiliation in public, let alone a slap from a woman.

Cynthia's heart pounded as she met his chilling gaze. She knew the difference in strength between them; if he retaliated, she wouldn't stand a chance.

Benedict glanced down at her trembling lashes, then exhaled slowly and slipped an arm around her waist.

"Feel better now?"