Called Off the Wedding, Left Him Bankrupt novel Chapter 73

After Mr. Fletcher left, Jenny didn't bother lingering, either.

She offered Cynthia a quick goodbye, completely ignoring Benedict, and left without a backward glance.

Once Benedict finished exchanging pleasantries with the other business partners, his expression darkened as he made his way over to Cynthia.

Jenny's car rolled past. She waved at Cynthia, signaling her farewell.

Watching Jenny drive off without so much as acknowledging him, Benedict's voice turned icy as he addressed Cynthia.

"Cynthia, you should keep your distance from her."

Cynthia shot him a sidelong glance.

"My friends are none of your concern, Mr. Shepard. Why don't you focus on managing your own social circle?"

With that, she turned on her heel, intent on getting into her car.

But Benedict grabbed her wrist suddenly, gripping her a little too firmly.

"You've had wine. You shouldn't be driving. I'll take you home."

Cynthia looked down at her reddening wrist, then pried his fingers off one by one.

"No, thanks. I'd rather not ride in a car that reeks of other women."

A few of the remaining business partners exchanged awkward glances at her words.

Benedict's face tightened, but he forced a smile, unwilling to lose face in front of the others.

"Cynthia, that's nonsense. My car was just cleaned. There's nothing of the sort."

She gave a cold, mocking laugh.

"Oh? So you scrubbed it spotless, just in case I noticed?"

Benedict fell silent, suddenly guilty, his mind slow from the alcohol.

Cynthia's gaze flicked over him, cool and sharp. Without another word, she slipped into her car and locked the doors.

She didn't know exactly when it had happened, but somewhere along the line, the courteous, charming man she'd once loved had become someone else—someone tainted by greed and indulgence, the elegance and warmth all but gone.

Maybe this was a blessing in disguise. Maybe she needed to see him for who he truly was.

The more desperate he became, the more he lashed out in front of her, the easier it was for her to let go. She found clarity in the pain, calm in the storm of his betrayal.

Benedict stood rooted to the spot, staring after her car as it disappeared. For a long moment, he didn't move. The buzz from the wine began to fade.

The others tried to comfort him.

"Women, you know—they just need a little sweet talk."

Benedict frowned, exhaustion flickering in his eyes.

As Cynthia sped away, never once hesitating, he was struck by a sudden, unsettling thought: maybe, no matter what he did, he'd never win her back.

Just then, Zachary and a few others emerged from the restaurant. Noticing the commotion, Zachary made his way over to Benedict.

"Come on, Benedict. You and Cynthia have been together for years—you know her better than anyone. You just need to put in a little extra effort. Besides, you two are so closely tied together; even if you messed up in the way men always do, she'll forgive you for the sake of what you both have to gain."