Rebirth Swapped Bride; Married to the Ruthless Cursed Billionaire
Chapter 399: Antonio is sexually harassing Camilla

Chapter 399: Antonio is sexually harassing Camilla

"What do you think you’re doing?"

Camilla’s lashes trembled slightly as her delicate brows furrowed instantly, her expression darkening.

"Oh, what do you think?"

Antonio rose from his seat, undoing the buttons of his suit jacket with one hand as he strode toward her.

"Just giving you a taste of how much better I am than Sinclair," he drawled, his lips curling into a smirk.

His shadowed gaze raked slowly over her flushed, exquisite face before lingering on the curves her casual clothes couldn’t conceal.

"Stay—stay away from me!"

Camilla scrambled to her feet, backing away warily while raising her voice.

"Is anyone there?

Help—!"

Did she really think calling for help would ruin his plans?

Antonio let out a low chuckle, his usually gentle and handsome face now veiled in something darker, unsettlingly out of place.

"Camilla, you really are adorable," he murmured, advancing at a leisurely pace, as if savoring the way he was cornering her step by step.

"Every single person here—inside and out—answers to me.

No one would dare take a single step in without my permission.

You could scream yourself hoarse, and it wouldn’t make a difference."

No one outside would come in.

A fleeting shadow passed through Camilla’s deep-set eyes.

She bit her lip, her delicate face betraying suppressed fear and anguish.

"Antonio, if you dare go any further, you’ll regret it."

"Not going further is what I’d regret," Antonio replied, his chilling smirk deepening as he watched her tremble.

The predatory glint in his eyes grew darker.

"That night you got drunk, I wanted to claim you then and there," he murmured, his deceptively gentle voice laced with simmering fury.

"Too bad Tiffany had to interfere..."

"But now, no one can stop me—" Drunk?

Camilla’s brows knitted together sharply.

The only time she’d ever drunk alcohol during university was at the medical department gathering organized by her advisor—the very night she’d discovered her poor alcohol tolerance.

After just one glass of that deceptively sweet cocktail, her head had spun into a haze.

Sensing danger, she slipped away without a word to anyone.

Yet within moments, Antonio had followed, insisting on escorting her home.

She’d refused.

Antonio’d persisted.

Feeling utterly dizzy and with her phone dead, he was the only person she knew besides her advisor.

After some hesitation, she reluctantly agreed.

Coincidentally, just as Antonio helped her into a taxi and was about to leave, Fanny—who had grown worried and came looking for her—showed up.

She immediately left with Fanny.

When she sobered up later, she even thanked Antonio for his help.

Never did she imagine his intentions had been anything but honorable.

If Fanny hadn’t shown up that night...

The memory sent a shiver of dread through Camilla’s heart.

Clenching her teeth, she spat, "Antonio, you’re disgusting." "Disgusting?"

Antonio arched a brow, his lips curling into a chilling, venomous smirk that twisted his usually gentle features into something sinister.

"Oh?

So when that Sinclair guy does the same thing to you, it’s not disgusting?"

His words dripped with barely restrained fury, his expression growing darker, more menacing.

"Camilla, you really know how to push my buttons."

Antonio had no patience left for games.

All he wanted now was to dominate—both the body and mind of the woman standing before him.

In a few swift strides, he closed the distance, his powerful hand seizing Camilla’s slender wrist as he tried to pin her down against the dining table.

"Be a good girl, Camilla," Antonio tightened his grip on Camilla’s arm and flung her onto the dining table.

His narrowed eyes gleamed with a twisted, predatory delight, as if she were prey completely at his mercy.

"Otherwise, I can’t guarantee what I might do."

As he spoke, he shrugged off his suit jacket and tossed it carelessly to the floor.

Camilla knew all too well the terrifying disparity in physical strength between men and women.

Struggling against him head-on was out of the question.

"If you value your life, stay back."

She didn’t scramble to get up immediately.

Instead, her striking eyes remained locked onto the approaching man, burning with defiance.

One hand braced behind her, fingers inching stealthily backward.

"Take one more step, and I won’t hold back..."

Her voice trembled slightly, betraying the fear she couldn’t quite suppress.

"Oh?

I’d love to see what you can do," Antonio’s lips curled into a smirk as his gaze raked over her with shameless hunger.

Calvin leaned in, closing the distance between them.

Camilla was the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on.

Even now, with fear flashing in her eyes, she enthralled him utterly.

Finally, she was about to belong to him—completely.

Just then—

"Take this!!"

Camilla grabbed a dinner plate from the table and smashed it against Antonio’s head with all her might.

The plate shattered instantly.

Perhaps because Camilla had played her role too well, or perhaps because her attack was too sudden, Antonio had no time to react.

The blow landed squarely, sending him staggering back a step.

Crimson blood trickled down his cheek, staining his usually gentle features into something grotesque and terrifying.

Seizing the moment, Camilla bolted from the dining table and sprinted toward the corner.

"Good... very good."

Antonio was livid, yet he laughed—a chilling, twisted sound.

The blood smeared across his face only made his expression more horrifying.

"Since you want to play, I’ll make sure you get your fill."

Instead of chasing her, he turned and yanked open a drawer beside the table, pulling out a gun and leveling it straight at Camilla.

Her pupils trembled, and her feet froze mid-step.

Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined that Antonio would keep a gun within reach.

It seemed her plan would need yet another revision.

Watching the fear flicker across Camilla’s face, Antonio’s smile deepened—cold, cruel, and utterly merciless.

"Come here quietly if you don’t want me to pull the trigger."

Camilla remained rooted to the spot.

No matter what, Sinclair would come for her.

Every second she could buy was precious.

Antonio’s gaze turned dangerously dark.

"Camilla, my patience is wearing thin.

If you don’t obey me now, I might just..."

His finger teased the trigger, pressing down slightly in warning.

"O-okay, I understand."

Camilla’s face paled with fear, but she had no choice.

She stumbled forward, her steps unsteady and slow.

"So our little Camilla only responds to threats, not kindness."

Watching her tremble, Antonio felt a surge of cruel satisfaction, his desire to torment her growing stronger.

"You should’ve said so earlier.

I could’ve satisfied you much sooner."

Biting her lip, Camilla said nothing as she finally stopped before him.

"P-put the gun down... I’m scared."