Rebirth Swapped Bride; Married to the Ruthless Cursed Billionaire-Chapter 318: Grandpa Luther’s visit to Sinclair’s house

San Francisco.

In a secluded villa on the outskirts of the city.

"Sir—"

"What’s so urgent?"

Jonathan’s sleep had been disturbed, his expression dark and sullen.

"Couldn’t wait until tomorrow?"

The refined and handsome demeanor he usually carried had completely vanished, replaced by an impenetrable gloom.

Anyone familiar with Jonathan would have been stunned to see him like this.

The gaunt man immediately bowed repeatedly, nodding in apology.

"My apologies, sir... my deepest apologies..."

Others were accustomed to seeing the gentlemanly side of their employer, but only he knew the cunning ruthlessness hidden beneath that mask.

Otherwise, how could a man do such things to his own son and father?

"Enough," Jonathan rubbed his temples, cutting off the thin man’s groveling.

"Cut to the chase already."

"Yes, yes," the gaunt man stopped fidgeting and straightened up, his expression turning serious.

"There’s movement at the old mansion."

The old mansion?

Jonathan glanced at the time, his brow furrowing.

At this hour?

What could possibly be happening there?

"Grandpa and uncle Carlos left the mansion ten minutes ago," the gaunt man added hastily, watching Jonathan’s reaction.

"Our informants say they seemed to be heading toward the Luther Family estate."

The estate?

Jonathan’s dark eyes narrowed slightly.

Had Sinclair had another episode, or was something else going on?

Recalling the events of the afternoon, his voice dropped lower, edged with urgency.

"Activate our contacts inside the estate.

I need to know exactly what’s happening."

"Yes," The gaunt man nodded.

"I’ll go right away."

If Sinclair was having an episode, this would be the perfect opportunity for him to act.

Jonathan leaned back in his chair, his eyes dark and unreadable.

Even if it was something else, he’d still get the information in advance.

Luther Family Manor.

Camilla leaned against Sinclair’s chest, her pale lips already bitten raw with deep indentations.

Sinclair held her tightly, his expression growing increasingly grim.

Finally—

"Guh—"

A mouthful of blackened blood spewed from Micheal’s throat.

At the same moment, a metallic tang surged up Sinclair’s own throat.

"Guh—"

A crimson trickle of blood seeped from the corner of Sinclair’s lips.

Camilla’s beautiful eyes trembled with alarm as she immediately reached out to wipe the blood away.

Yet Sinclair paid no mind to the strange sensation within his body—his gaze was fixed on her delicate fingers, now stained with his blood, his brows furrowing slightly.

*I shouldn’t have dirtied Camilla.*

Taking a handkerchief, he began meticulously wiping the blood from her fingers—slow, deliberate, and painstakingly thorough.

Meanwhile, Camilla anxiously turned to Iris and Grandma Porter.

"What’s happening?"

"Don’t worry, Mrs. Luther ," grandma Porter reassured her in a gentle tone, nodding at Iris’s silent cue. free𝑤ebnovel.com

"This means the host poison has been successfully devoured.

We can proceed with the final step very soon."

*So that’s it.*

Only then did Camilla relax, her shoulders easing as she turned back to the man beside her.

His handsome face was so close she could see every detail, and the corners of her red lips curled into a faint smile.

"Sweetheart, we’re almost there."

"Mmm."

Sinclair’s lowered brows were dark with suppressed emotion, not a trace of joy in sight.

If possible, he would willingly bear tenfold the suffering that Camilla had endured.

Meanwhile, Iris approached the barely breathing Micheal and raised the black flute to her lips once more.

As the eerie melody pierced the air, Micheal’s entire body seized violently.

His veins bulged like writhing earthworms beneath his skin, threatening to burst at any moment.

Soon, the black-gold venomous worm they had seen earlier struggled out from his ear, its grotesque form emerging with labored effort.

"This—"

Everyone gasped in astonishment.

"This is absolutely terrifying."

In such a short span of time, the poison worm had nearly doubled in size compared to just moments before.

As the worm slithered away, Micheal’s struggles ceased abruptly.

The man lay motionless on the ground, his body as lifeless as a corpse.

Grandma Porter carefully placed the obsidian gu worm into a prepared jar and handed it to Iris.

Clutching the black jar, Iris approached Camilla.

Her gaze flickered warily toward Sinclair before quickly shifting away.

She met Camilla’s eyes and spoke in a grave tone.

"Madam Luther, are you ready?"

Sinclair’s dark eyes sharpened instantly, his arms tightening protectively around Camilla.

Camilla gently squeezed his hand in reassurance, then sat up straight in his embrace.

She turned to Iris with a soft but steady voice.

"What do you need me to do?"

"The poison has nested in the heart and lungs.

The fastest way to draw it out is to lure it with blood," Iris narrowed her beautiful eyes and spoke slowly, enunciating each word clearly.

"The blood required is the same as before—preferably fresh heart’s blood." Fresh heart’s blood.

Sinclair and Camilla immediately understood what Iris meant.

"Camilla—"

The man’s deep voice had barely begun when Camilla cut him off.

"Sweetheart, you promised me you wouldn’t interfere."

Her pale lips struggled to form a faint smile.

"And I promised you that nothing would go wrong, didn’t I?"

Sinclair pressed his lips into a thin line, silent, his expression darkening dangerously.

Sinclair fought to suppress the fury churning inside him, veins bulging at his temples and along his neck.

For the first time in his life, Sinclair felt utterly powerless—trapped between impossible choices.

Camilla tightened her grip on his hand before turning to Iris and Dr. Caleb.

"Let’s go in."

The two nodded, then glanced at Sinclair.

Sinclair scooped up Camilla in his arms and strode toward the side room without hesitation.

"I’ll stay with you."

Those three simple words came out hoarse and strained, as if forcibly wrenched from the depths of his throat.

Camilla gazed at him steadily, her protests dying on her lips.

She knew exactly how much this man ached for her.

Denying him the chance to stay by her side would only wound him deeper.

Under the harsh overhead lights, his towering frame cast a shadow so oppressive it seemed to swallow the room.

The aura of barely restrained fury and darkness clinging to him made him look like an avenging demon straight from the underworld.

Exchanging a glance, Iris and Dr. Caleb trailed behind them in tense silence.

*Too close for comfort.*

Luke wiped the cold sweat from his brow, instructing the remaining doctors to monitor Micheal’s condition.

Luke knew better than anyone—Sinclair would never allow this man the mercy of an easy death.

The real retribution had yet to begin.

Meanwhile, in the main hall— Grandpa Luther and Uncle Carlos frowned in unison at the sight of Ramsey sprawled unconscious across the sofa.

Before the elder could speak, Uncle Carlos stepped forward and delivered a sharp kick to his son’s side.

"You little rascal, what are you doing sleeping here?

Get up now!"

Ramsey remained motionless.

"Ramsey?"

Only then did Uncle Carlos realize something was wrong.

Uncle Carlos immediately stepped forward to check.

Reaching out, he felt the warm breath from Ramsey’s nose and let out a slight sigh of relief before turning to Grandpa Luther.

"The kid’s passed out."

*Internal monologue:* Ramsey: *Dad, checking is one thing, but why the dramatic breath test?*

Uncle Carlos: *Can’t blame me—your reflexes are terrible.

I was afraid someone had taken you out.*

Grandpa Luther gave a slow, measured nod.

"Wake him up quickly and see if he’s alright."

Uncle Carlos nodded and pinched Ramsey’s philtrum hard.

Meanwhile,

Grandpa Luther’s deep-set eyes narrowed sharply as he turned his gaze toward the nearby servants.

"What exactly happened here?"

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