Called Off the Wedding, Left Him Bankrupt novel Chapter 9

For the past six months, he had watched, powerless, as Benedict and Giselle grew closer.

He still felt deeply indebted to Cynthia for all she had done for him.

"No, it's nothing. I just bumped into something earlier," Giselle replied quietly, a flicker of disappointment in her eyes. But she knew her place and didn't press further.

Benedict nodded, ever economical with his words. "Be careful."

Their assistant hesitated, unsure whether to tell Benedict everything she had witnessed.

Just then, several representatives from various fashion houses entered the office, each carrying an evening gown. They lined up in front of Benedict and Giselle, displaying the latest custom designs.

Giselle's earlier disappointment vanished, replaced by surprise and delight.

Benedict was clearly amused by her reaction. He arched an eyebrow, a hint of a smile in his deep-set eyes. "Pick one. I want you to join me at a party tonight."

Giselle gazed at him with shining eyes, her adoration barely concealed. "Really... I can?"

He reached out, ruffling her hair with an easy affection. "You can."

With his permission, Giselle sprang up from her chair and began choosing a dress, excitement written all over her face.

The assistant swallowed the words she'd been about to say, quietly slipping out of Benedict's office.

That evening, Cynthia's close friend—an expert in corporate mergers and acquisitions—invited her to an auction gala. As it happened, Cynthia wanted some advice about the value of her shares in VistaSphere Group. She was considering selling all her stock, and her friend was just the person to handle the transaction. With her expertise, Cynthia could expect to get far more than she could on her own.

When Cynthia arrived at the venue, she went straight to the private suite on the second floor, just as her friend had instructed.

Benedict's low voice carried through the wall. "Enough gossip. Let's focus on the auction."

Jocelyn was still fuming, but when she saw Cynthia's calm, almost detached expression, she understood—Cynthia had known all along.

Jocelyn's tone was frosty. "You're really just going to let this go?"

Cynthia replied, unfazed and loud enough for the next suite to hear, "Sometimes life serves you a shit sandwich. You can either pretend nothing happened and clean up fast, or announce to the world what you've just tasted. What's the point?"

The room next door fell silent.

The air seemed to freeze in place.