Rebirth Swapped Bride; Married to the Ruthless Cursed Billionaire-Chapter 351: A bet between Sinclair and Camilla

The Luther Family Estate.

While an indescribable tension hung over the entire Luther household, the atmosphere within the estate grounds was unusually relaxed and harmonious.

All the servants had gleaned one undeniable truth from recent events: Only when the mistress was happy would sunny days prevail over the Luther Family.

Thus, everyone treated Camilla with exceptional reverence.

At that moment, in the estate’s rear courtyard "Ten shots each," Camilla tilted her head playfully, her voice laced with sweet mischief.

"I’ll use both hands, you use one."

The difference in stability between shooting with two hands versus one was substantial.

This was her way of leveling the playing field.

Sinclair’s lips curved slightly as his dark, fathomless eyes remained fixed on her.

"Deal."

His deep, magnetic voice dripped with undisguised tenderness and indulgence.

Camilla noticed Sinclair agreed without hesitation, her clear, dark eyes glinting with a mischievous spark.

"Twenty-five meters for me, fifty for you?"

For an average person, twenty-five meters was already a challenge—let alone fifty.

All she wanted was to put Sinclair on the spot.

"Alright."

Sinclair’s refined face remained unreadable, his warm gaze never leaving his lovely wife.

Ramsey suppressed a smirk.

Even if the madam demanded that Luther shoot from outside the estate, he’d probably agree just as readily as he did now.

Sweetheart had never once refused her.

Camilla pressed her red lips together, deliberately teasing her husband as she met his eyes.

"I’ll keep mine open—you close yours."

Aiming was everything in shooting.

Surely, he wouldn’t agree to this.

A flicker of triumph flashed deep in her eyes.

Yet, once again, his answer was the same as before.

Beside them, Ramsey wore an expression of resigned familiarity—or perhaps utter desolation.

Even though President Luther and his wife hadn’t started shooting yet, he already felt riddled with metaphorical bullets.

"Sweetheart," Camilla frowned slightly at her husband, repeating her words with uncertainty.

"I said you should close your eyes."

"Mhm."

Sinclair chuckled low in his throat, wrapping an arm around Camilla’s slender waist and pulling her flush against him.

"I agreed," he murmured, pressing a kiss to his wife’s forehead, his dark eyes brimming with unshakable devotion.

"Whatever Camilla says goes."

Camilla circled her arms around his waist in return, her gaze softening, all traces of teasing gone.

"I was just joking."

"But I’m not."

Sinclair turned his head toward Ramsey.

"Adjust the shooting target."

"Yes," Ramsey nodded slightly, keeping his head lowered as he walked toward the control room.

Soon, the shooting targets were set up—one side at double the distance of the other.

"Sweetheart,"

Camilla tested the fifty-meter range and found it far too challenging.

"Can you really hit that?"

Aside from professional marksmen, who could possibly pull that off?

Sinclair gazed at his wife’s delicate, earnest face, his dark eyes deepening as a faint smirk curled at the corner of his lips.

"If you want me to, I can."

Under his unapologetically intense stare, Camilla’s expression shifted from confusion to realization, then to flustered irritation.

She cast a furtive glance toward Ramsey, who was still at the control panel, and exhaled quietly in relief before turning back to glare at Sinclair.

"I’m being serious here!

How can you say things like that?!"

Sinclair’s obsidian eyes gleamed with amusement, his deep voice laced with deliberate mischief.

"Like what, sweetheart?"

Noticing Ramsey stepping away from the controls, Camilla shot Sinclair a warning look, afraid he might say something even more suggestive.

Without another word, she huffed and strode toward her own shooting station, quickly preparing herself.

"Darling,"

Sinclair’s laughter rumbled deep in his chest, his dark eyes crinkling with amusement as he gazed at Camilla’s slightly flushed cheeks.

"Let me help you."

Sinclair moved behind her, his arms encircling her as he began loading the bullets for her.

The crisp, woody scent of agarwood enveloped Camilla completely.

She tried to ignore the warmth radiating from his body, forcing herself to focus on his large, deft hands as they handled the ammunition.

"Camilla," Sinclair clearly had no intention of letting her ignore him.

His voice, deep and velvety, curled around her like smoke.

"Since it’s a competition, how about we make a little wager?"

There was a teasing lilt to his words, coaxing and playful.

"Fine," Camilla answered with unwavering confidence.

"Just don’t say I’m taking advantage of you later."

With such an overwhelming advantage on her side, losing would defy all logic.

"So what if I’m being bullied?"

Sinclair’s dark eyes narrowed slightly, his tone deadly serious.

"And I’m perfectly willing to let it happen."

Camilla’s heart softened a little.

She turned and pressed a gentle kiss to the man’s thin lips.

"I set the rules, so you name the stakes."

Unnoticed by her, a glint of triumph flickered deep in the man’s eyes.

"Alright,"

Sinclair replied, his voice unhurried.

"The loser must unconditionally fulfill one request from the winner."

Sinclair paused deliberately.

"With a 24-hour deadline."

To anyone else, these stakes might have seemed enticing—but for them, they were meaningless.

Because even without a wager, they would have done the same for each other anyway.

Camilla hadn’t planned on making this a real bet to begin with.

Hearing his terms, she simply smiled and nodded.

"Deal."

A deeper smile curved at the corners of Sinclair’s lips.

At this moment, Camilla had no idea that she would soon come to deeply regret her current decision.

After preparing everything for his wife, Sinclair walked to his own shooting station and began setting up with practice ease.

Watching him, Camilla couldn’t help but smile.

To lure out the well-hidden big fish, sweetheart hadn’t left the estate for days.

Having him by her side every moment like this was an indescribable kind of happiness.

After measuring the shooting distance and angle, Sinclair narrowed his eyes and glanced at Camilla.

"Baby, you go first."

"Okay."

Camilla put on her noise-canceling headphones, gripped the gun firmly with both hands, and aligned it vertically with the target.

Once her line of sight, the gun’s muzzle, and the bullseye formed a perfect straight line, she pulled the trigger cleanly.

Bang.

Bang. ...

To achieve such accuracy in just a few days—Madam was truly impressive.

Back when he first learned marksmanship, it had taken him ages to get the hang of it.

Ramsey watched the scores Camilla had hit, admiration flickering in his eyes.

This way, if danger ever came knocking again, she’d have better means to protect herself.

President Luther... really had gone the extra mile for her.

Bang.

Bang.

With the final two shots ringing out, Camilla lowered her gun and checked her target.

A satisfied smile tugged at her lips.

Sinclair’s dark eyes narrowed slightly, brimming with approval.

His Camilla was truly a natural.

"Your turn, sweetheart," Camilla said, meeting Sinclair’s gaze.

A twinge of guilt pricked at her—winning like this hardly felt fair.

"Maybe you should take off the blindfold."

Fifty meters with one hand was already a tough challenge.

And given her unusually stellar performance today, Sinclair might not be able to top it.

Watching Camilla’s confident expression, Ramsey couldn’t help but sigh inwardly.

The lady had celebrated too soon.

"No need,"

Sinclair’s lips curved into a faint smile as he calmly slipped on his blindfold and noise-canceling headphones.

With effortless precision, he raised the gun single-handedly, aligning it with the bullseye.

Bang.

Bang. ...

Nine consecutive shots rang out without the slightest pause.

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