Rebirth Swapped Bride; Married to the Ruthless Cursed Billionaire
Chapter 316: You can’t Sacrifice yourself for me

Chapter 316: You can’t Sacrifice yourself for me

"Sweetheart—"

For the first time, Camilla couldn’t decipher the turbulent emotions swirling in Sinclair’s eyes, and a pang of unease gripped her heart.

"Why are you here?"

Her voice was as gentle as ever, but noticeably weaker.

Sinclair didn’t respond. His piercing dark eyes remained locked onto her face, their intensity deepening like an abyss threatening to swallow her whole.

Oh no!

Luke’s nerves tightened.

Calvin discreetly pressed the emergency call button to summon backup.

If the boss lost control in his rage, there was no way he could handle it alone.

Both Iris and Grandma Porter frowned slightly, their eyes clouded with worry.

If Sinclair forced them to stop now, not only would all their efforts be wasted, but they’d also lose the only chance to remove the parasitic worm.

Only Micheal’s despairing gaze suddenly flickered with hope.

Sweetheart would never let Camilla suffer for him—not even to break the curse.

If he stopped her now, everything could finally return to normal.

In the enveloping silence, Camilla straightened slightly with visible effort, her voice soft as a whisper.

"Sweetheart, come here, will you?"

The simple movement seemed to drain her.

Her hands, resting limply at her sides, clenched into fists—nails digging deep into her palms, yet she felt nothing.

Sinclair’s sharp eyes caught the fleeting shadow of pain in her beautiful gaze, his brows knitting tightly.

Without hesitation, he strode to the chair where she sat, his tall, imposing frame casting her entirely in his shadow.

"Camilla—"

From start to finish, those dark, narrowed eyes held no one but her.

Camilla tilted her head up to look at him, her crimson lips curling weakly.

"Sweetheart... why are you awake so suddenly?"

Sinclair knelt before her, his hand lifting to gently wipe the cold sweat from her face—his touch unbearably tender.

"A nightmare," he murmured, his voice low and rough, laden with something unspoken.

A nightmare?

What kind of nightmare could rouse sweetheart from sleep?

A flicker of concern flashed through Camilla’s beautiful eyes.

Yet she didn’t want to bring up the subject in front of everyone.

"It’s nothing," she murmured softly, guiding Sinclair’s hand to rest against her cheek despite the pain coursing through her body.

She gazed down at him tenderly.

"Nightmares are just dreams—they fade when you wake up."

"Hmm."

Sinclair stroked her face lightly, his fingers lingering on her warm skin.

His strikingly handsome features remained unreadable, betraying neither joy nor anger.

Yes, it had only been a dream.

One looking down, the other gazing up—their eyes locked in silent understanding.

"I told you not to make any sacrifices for me," he said, his voice strained with barely restrained emotion as he took in Camilla’s deathly pale complexion.

"Why didn’t you listen?"

"Sacrifice?"

A slow, knowing smile curved Camilla’s lips, her clear, luminous eyes brimming with unrestrained devotion.

"Sweetheart," she whispered.

"Nothing I do for you could ever be a sacrifice."

Nothing... a sacrifice?

What right did he have to deserve this?

Sinclair felt as if a knife had been plunged into his heart, the sharp pain twisting inside him.

"But Camilla," he murmured, his dark, narrow eyes narrowing further, the storm within them growing darker.

The chilling aura around him seemed to freeze the very air.

"I can’t bear to let you go."

Before Camilla could respond, Sinclair stood abruptly, his piercing gaze locking onto Iris’s with an intensity that felt almost suffocating.

"Stop it," his voice was low, icy, laced with a menace that sent shivers down the spine.

"No matter how far along you are—stop it now."

Iris’s pupils trembled under the weight of the suppressed fury and darkness in his eyes.

She clenched her fists to steady herself.

"But stopping now would—"

"Mr. Luther."

Grandma. Porter, seasoned by life’s trials, had far more composure than Iris.

She stepped forward, shielding the younger woman with her presence.

"Mr. Luther,"

Grandma.Porter spoke cautiously, her voice trembling slightly as she met Sinclair’s stormy gaze.

"If we stop now, all our efforts will be for nothing."

Seeing the darkness in his eyes deepen, she quickly added,

"Everything Mrs. Luther has endured so far... it would all be in vain."

Sinclair knew the process of transferring the gu poison all too well.

They were only halfway through.

The real agony was yet to come.

"I won’t repeat myself."

His voice was icy as he drew the gun from his coat, its cold metal glinting under the dim light.

For a few tense seconds, he aimed it at Iris before slowly shifting the barrel toward Micheal.

His lips curled into a chilling smile.

"If you don’t stop now, I’ll put a bullet through his skull."

Every person in this room had been brought here by Camilla.

Harming any of them would break her heart. So he’d use his own life instead.

Even if it meant death, he refused to let Camilla suffer.

Luke’s expression instantly turned panicked.

"President Luther—"

Luke barely got the words out before the man’s icy glance silenced him.

Frozen in place, he didn’t dare move another muscle.

Micheal’s eyes burned with manic excitement, his body writhing weakly.

Kill him.

Just kill him, and it’ll all be over.

* Sinclair would still follow the plan—he’d die with him.

Everything would be perfect. Iris and grandma Porter stiffened, their gazes flickering nervously toward Camilla.

Camilla watched Sinclair, his entire being radiating terrifying intensity.

Beneath her calm exterior, a steely resolve flashed in her eyes.

"Sweetheart."

She rose slowly, stepping directly in front of the gun he had raised, her voice soft but unwavering.

"If this is what you want to do... then shoot me instead."

Sinclair’s dark pupils contracted sharply, and he immediately jerked the gun away.

"Camilla, move."

"Even if you don’t kill Michael, his body won’t hold out much longer," Camilla shook her head gently, her luminous eyes fixed steadily on Sinclair’s stormy expression.

Her voice was soft as morning dew.

"If we don’t transfer the poison worm soon, you’ll be in danger too."

She took a step forward, her delicate hand closing over Sinclair’s, pressing the gun barrel firmly against her own chest.

"Then I wouldn’t be able to go on living either.

So rather than that... you might as well pull the trigger now.

Spare me the suffering."

Her tone carried its usual tenderness, yet beneath it lay an undercurrent of quiet despair.

"Camilla..."

Sinclair’s dark eyes flickered to the gun clutched in her grasp, his brows knitting slightly.

Sinclair didn’t dare apply the slightest pressure.

"Let’s go first."

His voice, usually so icy, had softened to a ragged whisper.

Camilla shook her head again, her gaze unwavering as she studied the storm in his obsidian eyes.

Her expression remained serene.

"Then promise me first—that you won’t interfere with the poison worm transfer."

The spacious room plunged into absolute silence.

The others barely dared to breathe as they watched the tense standoff between the two.

"Sweetheart..."

Camilla was the first to break the suffocating silence that had settled over the room.

"For your sake, I swear nothing will happen to me," she said, tightening her grip around Sinclair’s hand that held the gun.

Taking another step forward, she pressed the cold barrel directly against her own chest, right above her heart.

"I promise you.

Please, trust me."

Sinclair’s dark eyes deepened, his gaze locked onto her with an intensity that could pierce steel.

Every pair of eyes in the room was riveted on the two of them, the air thick with tension.

"...Fine."

After what felt like an eternity, Sinclair finally relented, his voice low and rough, carrying an unreadable weight.

"Now let’s go."

Camilla nodded, releasing his hand.

A sharp pain surged through her body, making her sway unsteadily on her feet.

Without hesitation, Sinclair tossed the gun aside to Luke and reached out, steadying her with one arm before pulling her tightly into his embrace.