Rebirth Swapped Bride; Married to the Ruthless Cursed Billionaire
Chapter 376: Divorce Sinclair Luther and be with me

Chapter 376: Divorce Sinclair Luther and be with me

"Camilla,"

Antonio’s lips curved into a smile, his eyes warm yet carrying an undercurrent of something darker.

"You’re smart.

You should know by now," he murmured, his gentle voice laced with a leisurely sort of menace.

"Whether Fanny comes to harm doesn’t depend on me—it depends on you."

Camilla’s gaze sharpened, her delicate face an unreadable mask.

"What do you want?"

Her soft, icy tone was like frozen steel, cutting and unyielding.

"I want you to divorce Sinclair and be with me," Antonio lowered his lashes, his handsome features shadowed with something inscrutable.

"Camilla, I want you by my side."

Antonio repeated the words calmly, his voice slow and deliberate.

Camilla’s slender fingers curled into tight fists, her knuckles whitening as she suppressed the storm inside.

"Antonio," she said coolly, "I don’t like you.

I never have.

What you’re doing is pointless."

"Never had feelings for me, huh?"

Antonio seemed lost in thought, his eyes narrowing as a bitter smile played at the corners of his lips.

"It doesn’t matter.

When you first married that man—what is his name, Sinclair?—you didn’t love him either, did you?"

His dark eyes were clouded, shadowed by something unreadable and grim.

"I love you more than he ever did, Camilla.

If you could fall for him, you can certainly fall for me."

Camilla’s brows knitted tightly, her gaze sharp with unmistakable revulsion.

"Antonio—"

"Camilla," he cut her off, his voice deceptively gentle.

"This isn’t a negotiation."

"If you want Tiffany to stay alive, you’ll do exactly as I say."

Camilla stared at the framed photo of herself and Tiffany on the table, her mind racing.

For An’s safety, she couldn’t outright refuse this madman.

She had to buy time—to keep him placated.

After a long silence, she finally spoke, her voice measured.

"I’ll agree to divorce Sinclair.

But not now."

Divorce?

Although he knew Camilla was just placating Antonio, the moment Sinclair heard those two words, his chiseled jawline tensed slightly.

Damn it.

His slender fingers tapped lightly as he sent the located coordinates to Ramsey.

His strikingly handsome face was shrouded in bone-chilling, ruthless coldness.

"Search inch by inch within this radius.

Leave no stone unturned."

Meanwhile.

"Not now?"

Antonio listened quietly to Camilla’s words before responding.

His voice was calm and gentle, casual as if they were merely making small talk—yet his tone carried an unmistakable undercurrent of meaning.

"Camilla, you’re not trying to buy time to rescue Tiffany by some other means, are you?"

Camilla’s heart skipped a beat, and she bit her lip.

"Of course not," she said, lowering her voice.

" Sinclair is currently unconscious from an episode.

Grandpa Luther is preparing to hand over the Luther Group to me."

She paused before continuing, "Divorcing now would not only be troublesome, but I’d walk away with nothing.

The loss would be too great."

Antonio raised an eyebrow.

Antonio had indeed heard that Sinclair hadn’t been seen for a while, but he hadn’t expected it to be due to a medical episode.

"Is Sinclair’s condition that serious?"

His pitch-black eyes held a trace of skepticism.

"Even with your medical skills, there’s nothing you can do?"

"Mhm."

Camilla’s voice was low, laced with pain.

"If there were a way, things wouldn’t have dragged on this long without improvement, leaving the Luther Family in such chaos."

Before Antonio could respond, she continued, "Sinclair’s condition is no secret in the Luther Family anymore.

If you don’t believe me, you can verify it yourself."

Of course, he already knew that.

If it were a lie, he would have seen through it.

This sudden stroke of good news threw Antonio’s thoughts into disarray.

Given the current circumstances... Perhaps what he stood to gain wasn’t just Camilla.

Antonio strode to the window, pulled out a cigarette, and lit it between his lips.

His eyes flickered like the glowing ember at its tip.

"What do you plan to do?"

At this moment, Antonio hadn’t yet realized that the upper hand in this negotiation had already, imperceptibly, shifted from him to Camilla.

Seeing that Antonio had taken the bait, Camilla secretly breathed a sigh of relief, though her voice remained tense and guarded.

"No matter what, I need to secure the Luther Corporation first."

She paused deliberately, feigning hesitation before continuing.

"Only then can I... follow through with your terms."

"Fine.

One more day won’t kill me," Antonio replied languidly, his eyes narrowing through the haze of bluish smoke.

After a long silence, he added in a deceptively gentle tone, "But Camilla, let me remind you—don’t even think about trying anything Otherwise..."

His voice was smooth as velvet, yet the words sent a chill down her spine.

"Tiffany won’t just die.

She’ll die in disgrace.

And trust me, neither of us wants that."

The unspoken implication hung heavy in the air.

From the window, Tiffany clenched her jaw, her knuckles turning white.

Camilla was seething but dared not provoke Antonio further.

"Understood," she managed after steadying herself with a few deep breaths.

"But until then, I want updates on Fanny’s condition every two hours."

"No problem," Antonio listened quietly as Camilla finished speaking, then decisively agreed to her request.

"I’ll have someone send you updates on Tiffany’s condition every two hours via email."

Since he said so, he clearly had a way to avoid being traced.

Camilla didn’t say anything more and simply hung up the phone.

Leaning back into the sofa, she let out a long sigh.

At least for the next two days, Fanny would be safe.

But time was of the essence—everything had to be handled quickly.

After collecting her thoughts, Camilla stood up and headed toward the study where Sinclair was.

"Sweetheart, I’m coming in."

"Hmm."

Sinclair reclined in his chair, a cigarette between his fingers.

His deep, inscrutable eyes, slightly narrowed, seemed to swirl like dark whirlpools as he watched Camilla approach.

"Any leads?"

The moment Camilla met her husband’s gaze, she immediately sensed his unusual mood.

Without hesitation, she changed course—instead of heading for the sofa, she walked straight to him and straddled his long legs.

The closer she got, the more evident the displeasure in those shadowed eyes became.

"We’ve already sent people to search."

Sinclair extinguished his cigarette with one hand while pulling his delicate wife closer with the other, his voice hoarse as he murmured through narrowed eyes.

"So, Camilla wants to divorce me and be with that man, hm?

" Here we go.

The reckoning had finally come.

Camilla knew all too well that now was the time to placate him.

She leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his thin lips.

"That was just a stalling tactic—none of it was real.

I’m sticking with you for life," she said gently, her eyes warm with affection.

"Divorce?

I couldn’t even bear to be apart from you."

As she spoke, she nestled her face against his chest, nuzzling him like a spoiled kitten.

Every word came from the heart.

In her past life, she didn’t know how to cherish him.

But in this one, she’d rather die than leave Sinclair again.

Sinclair’s long, elegant fingers combed lightly through Camilla’s hair.

The warmth of her voice and the tenderness of her words eased the storm in his chest, the icy glint in his eyes gradually softening.

Of course he knew it was all an act.

Yet despite everything, he couldn’t accept it.

Camilla could only be his.

In this lifetime, and the next.

Forever.

Before long, his lips descended upon hers.

Moving with possessive hunger, claiming and consuming.

Meanwhile.

As Camilla hung up the phone, Antonio smoothly pocketed his own device before turning to Tiffany with practiced civility.

"You truly live up to being Camilla’s closest friend," he remarked, his voice deceptively mild.

"She cares for you deeply."

So deeply it made his blood burn with envy.

Tiffany glared at him with undisguised hatred—if looks could kill, this hypocritical monster would’ve died a thousand deaths by now.

"Remove the tape," Antonio ordered the bodyguard restraining her without breaking eye contact.

"Yes, sir."

The bodyguard reached out again, ripping the tape off Tiffany’s mouth with a sharp tug.

A stinging pain shot through her lips, making her wince, but she barely registered it.

Her eyes burned with fury as she glared at the man before her, teeth clenched.

"Antonio, you’ll pay for this!"

She had heard every word of that phone call.

But she refused to believe that Sinclair was in any real danger—or that Camilla would ever bow to Antonio’s whims.

No, there had to be more to this.

Some hidden plans.

"Fanny," Antonio said, his voice infuriatingly calm, his gaze deceptively gentle.

"We’re past the point of empty threats.

Push me too far, and the only one who’ll suffer is you."

Antonio took a slow drag from his cigarette before crushing it underfoot, his lips curving into a faint smile.

"Now, I’ll give you a choice.

Either I personally tend to your wounds, change your clothes, and feed you—or I leave it to the staff I arranged earlier."

His eyes glinted with amusement.

"If it’s the former, well... a doctor sees no gender.

I don’t mind."

After all, he couldn’t let Camilla see Tiffany like this—pale, weak, barely holding herself together.

It would break her heart.

And that, he simply couldn’t allow.

Seeing Tiffany remain silent, Antonio undid the top button of his suit with one hand, tilting his head slightly to address his assistant behind him.

"Bring the lab coat and medical kit—"

"Stop."

Tiffany’s eyes flickered as she abruptly cut him off.

"I want them.

I want them now!"

Antonio was a madman—she couldn’t afford to gamble.

A satisfied smirk deepened at the corners of his lips as he saw his goal achieved.

"Fine."

His response was cool, detached.

"Bring them in."

"Yes, sir."

The assistant gave a slight nod before stepping out.

Soon, several female doctors and maids entered, carrying trays of food, and gathered around Tiffany’s bedside.

This time, she didn’t resist—nor could she.

Only after watching Tiffany accept treatment and eat did Antonio finally turn away, satisfied, and stride out of the room.