THE DIVORCE GAMBIT From Dumped Wife to CEO's Forever novel Chapter 98

As expected, trying to figure out the mind of someone like Father Benedict was well beyond the likes of ordinary folks like them.

"Cynthia, you're not messing with me, are you?" VP Marshall eyed his niece warily, as if half-convinced she was playing some elaborate prank.

Cynthia shook her head. "No joke. When Mr. Winslow and I went over, all we saw was Father Benedict's assistant."

"You didn't mention you'd been one of Father Benedict's top students?" Marshall pressed.

"I did." Cynthia looked frustrated. "Didn't matter to them in the slightest."

Truth be told, Cynthia herself was surprised by how coldly she'd been received. Back in grad school, Father Benedict had always spoken highly of her. Two years out, and suddenly it was as if all that history had vanished into thin air. Now, she couldn't even get a foot in the door.

Her mood soured just thinking about it.

She glanced at Victor. "Mr. Winslow, maybe it's time to consider a different spokesperson. There's no sense beating a dead horse."

Marshall nodded in agreement. "She's right, Victor. If Father Benedict won't even see us, there's no point wasting more time. As long as the game's good and has real substance, it'll succeed no matter who fronts it."

Victor shook his head. "No. We're not changing course, not yet."

Father Benedict was the ideal spokesperson—no one else would do. Victor refused to give up until every last option had been tried.

Just then, Cynthia's eyes brightened as something occurred to her. "Oh, that's right—Mr. Winslow, when you stepped out to the restroom, I overheard something from Father Benedict's assistant."

"What was it?" Victor and Marshall both turned to her expectantly.

"One of my classmates said Father Benedict's been in the hospital—he's not well. And apparently, he's searching for the person who saved his life. The story goes, Father Benedict had a heart attack, and the ambulance got stuck in traffic on the overpass. If that good Samaritan hadn't shown up just in time, things might have ended very differently. He's extremely grateful to his rescuer."

Victor's eyes sharpened. "Do you know this person's name?"

If they could help track down this good Samaritan, maybe they'd finally get an audience with Father Benedict.

Dalton stood at the edge of the desk. "Julian, word is Apex is searching for Father Benedict's rescuer too. What if they find them first?"

Julian's lips curled in a smirk. "Those clowns at Apex? They don't even know the rescuer's last name, and they think they'll find them? Ridiculous."

He straightened, eyes sharpening. "Still, even though we have all the details about Father Benedict's good Samaritan, we can't afford to slack off. We have to find them before the Benedict family does."

Only then would Father Benedict feel indebted to him. Only then would gratitude—and perhaps a sense of obligation—be assured.

This time, he couldn't lose to Caitlin. Or to Apex.

Dalton picked up the file on the desk, scanning the description of the mysterious savior. The deeper he read, the more uneasy he became. "Last name Kensington, supposedly very pretty, looks about seventeen or eighteen… Julian, doesn't this sound a lot like Caitlin? You don't think Caitlin is the one who saved Father Benedict, do you?"

Dalton had seen Caitlin after her divorce—she was a different woman altogether now.

Julian burst out laughing. "That country bumpkin? Not a chance! The person who saved Father Benedict is trained in medicine—a direct heir to that old tradition. You really think just anyone could inherit that legacy, let alone save Father Benedict? Give me a break."