Rebirth Swapped Bride; Married to the Ruthless Cursed Billionaire
Chapter 402: The End of Antonio Mega

Chapter 402: The End of Antonio Mega

Antonio stared at the pair before him, the shadow of death creeping ever closer.

A suffocating despair, as though his very soul had frozen over, settled upon him.

Antonio had been the mastermind, the one pulling the strings—yet somehow, he had been outplayed.

No matter how he turned it over in his mind, the bitter taste of defeat refused to fade.

"Sinclair, this is Country E, my family’s territory," His lips pressed into a thin line as a hoarse voice struggled past his throat.

"Kill me, and my family will never let you go.

None of you will leave Country E alive.

Why don’t we both take a step back instead?"

Camilla sneered inwardly.

At this point, did he still think he had a way out? Sinclair’s lips curved into a smirk, his dark, narrowed eyes brimming with ruthless cruelty.

"Compromise has never been my strong suit.

And as for your Mega family—"

His voice was icy, devoid of any inflection.

"—how can you be so sure whether they won’t let me go, or I won’t let *them* go?"

Antonio hadn’t expected such a response.

His slightly bloodshot pupils constricted, then dilated abruptly.

"What—what do you mean by that?"

The Luther Family had no influence in Country E.

Was he seriously planning to take on his family head-on?

"It’s simple," Sinclair said leisurely, toying with Camilla’s hand.

Yet his lowered gaze fixed unerringly on the reddened marks left by restraints around her wrist, a storm of violence churning in the depths of his eyes.

"Very soon, I’ll send your entire family down to keep you company."

Everything Antonio had done to Camilla was carried out through the influence of his family.

They couldn’t possibly have been unaware. Since they were far from innocent, he naturally wouldn’t let them off.

Antonio felt the weight of the man’s words crush his breath, struggling to force out a response.

"Sinclair, you’re delusional! My family’s power in Country E runs deep—"

"That’s not for you to worry about," Sinclair lifted his gaze, his dark, narrowed eyes brimming with undisguised mockery as he regarded the cornered Antonio.

"Men, castrate him."

"Yes, sir!"

The mercenaries immediately stepped forward.

"You—you can’t do this—!"

Antonio’s face drained of color in terror.

At the last moment, he suddenly lunged, grabbing a gun and firing toward Sinclair and Camilla.

"Bang—"

"Die!

Just die already!"

Antonio’s face twisted with venomous hatred as he raised his gun and pulled the trigger, aiming straight at Camilla.

Antonio had been so close—so agonizingly close—to having everything he wanted.

But because of this man’s sudden appearance, not only had he lost Camilla and the Luther Corporation—the prizes he had schemed for so long to claim—but now even his own life was slipping through his fingers.

If that was how it had to be, then he’d drag them all down to hell with him.

Even if he could only take one of them, the survivor would suffer for the rest of their life. Antonio couldn’t wait to see it happen.

Bang—

Bang—

Two gunshots rang out in rapid succession, echoing through the vast, cluttered living room.

Antonio’s gun hand and knee were simultaneously pierced by bullets, sending him crashing heavily to the ground.

His eyes widened in disbelief as he stared at the firearm now held effortlessly in Sinclair’s grip—when had he even drawn it?

Sinclair gazed down at him with icy detachment, his dark eyes devoid of anything but frost.

Not even a flicker of surprise.

The man’s desperate struggle just moments ago seemed like nothing more than a pathetic joke in his eyes.

"No... no..."

Overwhelmed by crushing disappointment and disbelief, Antonio had already tuned out the searing pain in his body, descending into utter madness.

"Still clinging to hope even now?

How pitiful.

And yet, once again, you’re destined for disappointment."

Camilla narrowed her eyes, her voice icy and detached, as though she were merely stating an objective fact.

"Pathetic.

And utterly laughable."

Her words, delivered in that calm, measured tone, sliced through Antonio like the sharpest blade, each syllable piercing his heart with cruel precision.

"Camilla, how dare you—?!

If it weren’t for you—!"

Fury and humiliation burned through him, and he lashed out, desperate to hurl the vilest insults he could muster to vent his rage and resentment.

But before he could finish, his breath suddenly hitched.

His deathly pale face flushed an ugly, mottled red, like spoiled liver.

Then, with a heavy thud, he collapsed to the ground, a thick stream of black blood spewing from his lips.

"Guh—!"

It felt as though his entire body had been plunged into a vat of sulfuric acid—his organs, his bones, everything was being rapidly eaten away.

The agony was unbearable.

His muscles convulsed violently, his eyes bulging as if they might burst from their sockets.

A guttural, animalistic scream tore from his throat—the sound of a man staring death in the face.

The seasoned mercenaries present couldn’t help but frown as they observed Antonio’s current state.

This was her newly developed poison—Bone-Rotting Heart-Devourer.

A pity she’d only managed to administer half the dose in the heat of the moment.

Otherwise, Antonio would already be a corpse.

Camilla, however, curled her lips into a smile, her crescent eyes turning toward Sinclair.

"Let’s go, Sweetheart."

Her delicate features were half-lit by the dim remaining light in the living room, casting her in an eerie chiaroscuro.

Breathtakingly beautiful, yet so unsettling it was hard to meet her gaze.

Like an angel and a devil fused into one.

A perfect match for the man beside her, their auras inexplicably aligned.

"Alright," Sinclair wrapped an arm around Camilla as they rose, his dark eyes icy and unreadable.

"We’ll deal with him after the poison runs its full course."

The mercenaries instantly understood.

They were going to let him suffer every last ounce of agony before sending him to his grave.

"Yes!"

Antonio’s bloodied hands clawed desperately at the ground as he strained to lift his head.

His gaze locked onto the retreating figures of Sinclair and Camilla—their silhouettes so perfectly matched, so untouchable—as if no one else could ever come between them.

His eyes burned with a hatred so intense it sent chills down the spine.

Antonio refused to accept this. Antonio refused!

The mercenaries exchanged glances, shaking their heads in mocking disbelief.

*Still unrepentant, even at death’s door.*

Moments later, a gunshot rang out.

Antonio’s crimson eyes and venomous expression froze in place, his body finally going still.

The late autumn wind carried a biting chill, seeping into the night like ink into water.