Rebirth Swapped Bride; Married to the Ruthless Cursed Billionaire
Chapter 321: Telling Grandpa the truth about Mr. Luther’s condition

Chapter 321: Telling Grandpa the truth about Mr. Luther’s condition

"About Sinclair’s condition..."

Grandpa Luther cast a glance at the mercenary guarding the door before turning his gaze to Luke.

His voice was calm and measured as he asked,

"Has it flared up again?"

"No, not at all," Luke replied, avoiding the old man’s piercing stare.

Ramsey kept his head slightly lowered, his voice barely above a whisper.

"President Luther is fine."

At least for now.

Given the circumstances, he could only disclose what was absolutely necessary.

"Sinclair is fine?"

Grandpa Luther’s brows knitted together in a deep frown.

"Then... has something happened to Camilla instead?"

Luke: !! Uncle Carlos hadn’t said a word about that. Inside the room, Ramsey was in no mood to find amusement in the situation either.

Ramsey paced back and forth in the room, trying to figure out what to say later.

But no matter how hard he thought, nothing came to mind.

Just as he was lost in thought, the door was pushed open from the outside.

Grandpa Luther and Uncle Carlos walked in one after the other, their expressions icy and stern.

"Boss"

Ramsey’s eyes sharpened as he immediately stepped forward to greet them.

Inside the room.

The parasitic worms wrigged violently inside Camilla’s body, seemingly quite pleased with their new host.

Camilla leaned against Sinclair’s chest, biting down hard on her lower lip to suppress any sound that might escape.

But Sinclair wasn’t so easily fooled.

His dark eyes grew even more unfathomable, the veins in his neck bulging with tension.

"Camilla,"

Sinclair reached out, gently tucking the sweat-dampened strands of hair behind her ear, his deep obsidian eyes narrowing slightly.

"Let me share your pain, alright?"

His voice, usually cool and composed, was now hoarse and strained to the breaking point.

Camilla looked up at Sinclair with crescent-shaped eyes, her gaze soft and tender.

"Aren’t you keeping me company right now?"

"That’s not what I meant," Sinclair murmured, his dark eyes lingering on the faint indentations her teeth had left on her lower lip from biting back the pain.

His expression grew shadowed, unreadable.

"I meant real, tangible pain.

Like—"

Before she could react, his hand—slim fingers and prominent knuckles—tightened around the scalpel Dr. Caleb had used her earlier.

In one swift motion, he pressed the blade against the same spot on his own lip. "—this." With deliberate force, he dragged the edge across his skin.

A thin red line bloomed instantly, blood seeping into the fabric of his shirt.

"Sweetheart!!"

Camilla gasped, her face draining of color.

She lunged forward, pressing her hands desperately against the wound.

"What are you doing?!

Why would you—?"

Crimson welled between her fingers, stark against her already pale skin. Panic flared in her eyes.

"Quick—call Dr. Caleb back! Now!"

"Don’t be scared, Camilla," Sinclair pulled her back into his embrace, his voice hoarse and tender as he murmured, "I know my limits.

I’ll be fine."

His dark, obsidian eyes burned with an intensity of love that bordered on obsession.

"Only by sharing your pain can I truly breathe."

Camilla felt her nose sting, her heart twisting in her chest at his words.

"Sweetheart—"

Her voice broke as heat pricked behind her eyelids, blurring her vision. Scalding tears spilled over, tracing silent paths down her cheeks.

"Don’t cry, sweetheart."

Sinclair’s brow furrowed at the sight of her tears. "I’m not in pain at all."

The physical ache was nothing compared to the torment in his heart.

If he could, he’d gladly let Camilla wield the knife herself—just to spare her this sorrow.

Camilla shook her head, her tears falling harder.

Her sweetheart loved it far too fiercely, far too painfully.

Whether in past lives or this present one. "What should I do?"

Sinclair gave a wry smile, letting out a sigh tinged with helplessness and self-mockery.

"It seems I always end up making you cry."

As he spoke, he leaned down and pressed his lips to the tear rolling down Camilla’s cheek.

The kiss was unbearably tender, lingering with a depth of emotion that spoke volumes.

In the outer room of the medical bay.

"Grandpa,"

Ramsey’s face paled as he hastily stepped in front of Grandpa Luther, blocking his way.

"You can’t go in."

Luke had made it clear—Miss Iris’s orders before she left were explicit.

The mistress was at the most critical moment, and no one was to disturb her.

"Ramsey!"

Uncle Carlos glared at his son with icy severity.

"Have you lost your mind?

How dare you stand in the grandpa’s way?"

Ramsey wore an expression of helpless despair, turning to Luke for support.

But Luke kept his head lowered, refusing to meet his gaze.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to help—he simply didn’t dare.

Grandpa Luther’s eyes bore down on Ramsey with unprecedented authority and sternness.

"Step aside!!"

As he spoke, he stepped forward once more. At this point, Ramsey knew there was no hiding the truth any longer.

"Sir, you really can’t go in," he said gravely, his voice low and firm.

"President Luther has been afflicted with a Twin-Life poison.

Madam is currently at the most critical stage of breaking the curse—she absolutely cannot be disturbed."

Twin-Life poison?!

Grandpa Luther’s deep-set eyes widened abruptly before narrowing sharply, his body swaying slightly where he stood.

"Sir!"

Both Uncle Carlos and Ramsey were startled, immediately rushing forward to steady him.

With a wave of his hand, Grandpa Luther brushed off their support, his chest heaving as he struggled to suppress his ragged breaths.

His voice was stern, laced with barely restrained urgency.

"What in the world is going on?

Explain everything to me—now!"

This time, Ramsey didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, his gaze shifted toward Luke standing nearby.

"Luke, you were with Madam the entire time.

You know the details best—you tell him."

Some debts weren’t left unpaid—just delayed until the right moment.

The instant his name was called, Luke felt a stampede of ten thousand animals thundering through his mind.

But Grandpa’s intimidating gaze was already fixed on him, forcing him to steal himself and speak up.

"It’s Michael.

Michael used underhanded methods to plant a Life-Linked poison on President Luther."

Luke explained the details of the Life-Linked poison to Grandpa Luther without holding anything back.

The old man remained silent, his chest heaving violently, his face drained of color beyond description.

Meanwhile, a black SUV pulled over by the roadside.

"President Calvin, we’ve got them."

Jey stepped out first and opened the rear door for Calvin.

With a languid lift of his narrow, piercing eyes, Calvin stepped out of the vehicle.

"Only three people in that car?"

His voice was slow and indifferent, yet laced with a chilling skepticism.

"Four," the lead bodyguard replied, knowing better than to lie under Calvin’s scrutiny.

"One of them slipped past us—rolled down a slope when we weren’t looking."

Jey kept his head lowered, reporting the truth as it was.

"That man knew roads here like the back of his hand.

Our men gave chase but lost sight of him."

Familiar with the area?

Calvin’s obsidian eyes glinted with icy amusement as he surveyed the three captured men.

It seemed the Luther Family had yet another restless troublemaker.

This was a classic case of "spurning the open road to heaven and barging through hell’s gate instead."

"Jey,"

Calvin commanded, his voice cutting through the tension, "personally escort these men to Ramsey."

"Understood."

Jey nodded solemnly, fully grasping Calvin’s unspoken implications.

"I’ll see to it immediately."

Meanwhile, at the Luther Family’s suburban villa... Jonathan sat in his study, meticulously reviewing years of carefully laid plans, when the door burst open without warning.

"Sir!!"

A gaunt, ashen-faced man rushed in, his expression frantic with panic.

Startled, Jonathan’s face darkened like a thundercloud the moment he recognized the intruder.

"What’s happened?

Where’s your composure?!"