Called Off the Wedding, Left Him Bankrupt novel Chapter 85

Cynthia turned and saw Dominic stepping out from the shadows. The amber glow of the porch light spilled over his shoulders, casting angular shadows across his face. He was idly turning her phone in his hand, his expression carved with a stern gravity that was impossible to read.

Father Benedict drew his hand back, watching helplessly as Cynthia walked toward Dominic. A flicker of uneasy suspicion flashed in his eyes.

"Thank you, Mr. Holloway," Cynthia said as she approached, reaching for the phone in his hand.

Dominic lowered his gaze, studying her quietly. "Need any help?" he asked.

She shook her head. "No, thank you."

His grip on her phone tightened almost imperceptibly.

Cynthia frowned in confusion, meeting his eyes—and saw, unmistakably, a hint of displeasure simmering beneath his calm veneer.

"Mr. Holloway…" she tried again, tugging gently, but the phone wouldn't budge from his grasp.

She didn't understand. Why was he upset?

Dominic's eyes softened a touch, and finally, he loosened his hold.

Watching from the doorway, Benedict's face darkened as he took in the exchange. He strode over and placed a hand on Cynthia's shoulder, his touch a little too firm.

"Thank you for bringing Cynthia's phone back, Mr. Holloway. I'm afraid I've spoiled her—she's always misplacing things. I hope it wasn't too much trouble for you."

Dominic's response was blunt. "Trouble or not, it's done. No point making a fuss."

Benedict hadn't expected such a curt reply. His smile faltered for a split second, and his grip on Cynthia's shoulder tightened.

She shot him a cold glance. "You're hurting me," she said, voice icy.

He paused, startled, and eased his hand.

Cynthia shrugged off his arm, then turned to Dominic, her tone polite but distant. "Let me walk you out."

Benedict took out his phone, about to call his assistant, Frank—then recalled that he'd been dropped off by a driver after drinking at dinner. He lowered his phone and gave a stiff nod. "Of course."

Cynthia had already opened the wrought-iron gate and slipped inside, relocking it behind her with a decisive click.

Benedict fell in step behind Dominic as they exited the alley. During the short walk, Dominic kept a deliberate distance, making it abundantly clear he wasn't interested in conversation.

Benedict clenched his teeth, feeling a sting of unspoken disdain radiating from Dominic, as if it came from the very marrow of the man.

Drawing a slow breath, Benedict quickened his stride to catch up. "Mr. Holloway, I've always been curious—what do you really think of VistaSphere Group?"

Dominic didn't hesitate. "It's like the take-off board for an athlete." His tone was matter-of-fact, his deep-set eyes unreadable in the half-light, the moon casting only the faintest hint of emotion across his features. "Crucial."

Benedict relaxed ever so slightly, the knot in his chest loosening. "I didn't expect you to think so highly of us. Rest assured, as long as you work with VistaSphere Group, we won't let you down."

Dominic offered him a single, unreadable glance, then strode away into the night without another word.