Rebirth Swapped Bride; Married to the Ruthless Cursed Billionaire Chapter 135: You finally need my help??

anwhile... In a secluded villa on the outskirts of the city...

Micheal’s life-bound poisonous worm seed to sense imminent danger, writhing violently within his body.

Excruciating pain radiated through every limb and joint, contorting his face into a grotesque mask of agony.

Veins bulged across his skin like swollen earthworms.

What the hell was happening?!

His bloodshot eyes burned with tornt and confusion.

He thrashed against his restraints, but the thick ropes held firm.

With his jaw dislocated, even screams were impossible—leaving him to endure the bone-deep tornt in suffocating silence.

Outside, a rcenary guard kicked him sharply at the commotion.

"Losing your damn mind again?!"

Elsewhere.

Fear?

Sinclair’s brow furrowed slightly, his gaze dark with contemplation.

He was certain—this emotion didn’t belong to him.

Camilla clutched her skirt, breath frozen midair.

Having an overly perceptive husband wasn’t always a blessing.

Just then, Sinclair’s phone rang abruptly.

The shrill tone startled the little girl beside him.

The golden silkworm, reacting to her spike of alarm, took flight before obediently burrowing back into her body at her subtle nod.

Sinclair studied the child for a long mont before finally answering the call.

"Taylor?"

Sinclair’s voice was calm.

"I’ll be there shortly."

The call ended.

He lowered his gaze to the little girl in his arms, his handso face unreadable.

Camilla watched his profile nervously, the atmosphere thickening between them.

Perhaps it was the icy depth of Sinclair’s eyes—the little girl suddenly pouted and turned toward Camilla, stretching out her tiny arms.

Her grape-like eyes were already glistening with unshed tears.

Sinclair narrowed his eyes slightly.

"Sweetheart, let take her."

Without hesitation, Camilla reached out and gathered the child into her own embrace.

"Did Taylor need sothing?"

"Mhm.

There’s a partnership to discuss."

Sinclair checked the ti, and when his eyes returned to Camilla, his expression had softened once more.

"It should take about an hour. Would you rather wait for or go ho first?"

"I’ll head ho first," Camilla replied with a soft smile, her lips curving gently.

"I had Luke bring Fanny and that scumbag back to the estate.

I need to deal with that first."

"Alright,"

Sinclair said, leisurely adjusting his tie before leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead, his dark eyes narrowing slightly.

"I’ll have Ramsey drive you back."

Conference Room

Taylor hadn’t even finished his cup of tea when the strikingly handso yet icy man walked in, right on ti.

"Well, well," Taylor remarked, his refined features breaking into a teasing grin.

"Punctual as ever.

I was prepared to wait another half hour."

"Half an hour?"

Sinclair settled gracefully into the seat across from him, crossing his long legs with effortless ease.

"I’m nothing like Calvin."

Taylor set down his cup, the smile at the corners of his lips deepening.

"Fair enough."

When it ca to teasing his friends, he never held back.

As for whether it was true or not—well, that hardly mattered.

Behind them, their assistants kept their eyes downcast, feigning complete ignorance of the conversation.

Calvin:!!

If it weren’t so damn inconvenient, I’d show you both what a real man looks like!!

Once the tea was finished— "Bring out the project proposal," Taylor said, glancing over his shoulder.

"Let’s show President Luther our sincerity."

"Right away."

The assistant behind him promptly retrieved the prepared docunts from his briefcase and presented them with both hands.

"Please take a look, President Luther."

Sinclair’s assistant imdiately stepped forward, accepting the project proposal with both hands and placing it before him.

"Not so fast," Sinclair glanced at the docunt but made no move to open it.

Instead, his dark, inscrutable eyes fixed on Taylor.

"There’s sothing I need your help with."

"Oh?"

Taylor leaned back in his chair, a slow, amused smile playing on his lips.

"So the day has finally co when you need *my* help?"

Sinclair lifted his gaze slightly, glancing at the two assistants.

"Leave us."

"Yes, sir."

They bowed slightly and exited the room.

The conference room fell silent, now occupied only by the two n.

Taylor reached into his jacket, retrieving a cigar case and a lighter.

Just as he was about to light up— Sinclair reclined in his chair, his tone casual but firm.

"Cut back on those."

"It’s fine," Taylor deftly placed the cigarette between his lips and lit it, a self-deprecating smile curling at the corner of his mouth.

"My health is already in such bad shape—one more cigarette won’t make a difference." Sinclair frowned.

"Get your schedule sorted in the next couple of days.

I’m taking Camilla to co see you."

His tone left no room for argunt. It was clear he’d picked up on Taylor’s evasiveness and resignation.

"Since when did you start sounding like Calvin?"

Taylor exhaled a slow stream of smoke, his expression tinged with quiet exasperation.

"Fine, I’ll arrange it as soon as I can."

His eyes narrowed slightly as he studied Sinclair.

"Alright, out with it. What’s got you so serious?"

Sinclair picked up a cigarette of his own, tilting his head slightly as he lit it.

Through the haze of smoke, his gaze fixed on Taylor as he spoke deliberately.

"I rember you befriended a poisonous marker a few years back?"

"A poisonous marker?"

Taylor froze, the smile fading from his face as he straightened up to look at Sinclair.

"What’s going on?"

"I’m not entirely sure yet—or at least, I can’t confirm anything," Sinclair replied, taking a slow drag from his cigarette, his voice deep and asured.

"Would it be possible to invite them here?"

"Probably not," Taylor said, his expression turning serious.

"The man I know is already in his nineties.

Traveling long distances would be too much for him."

He flicked the ash from his cigarette and lowered his voice.

"If there’s sothing urgent, I can call him first to ask.

If it’s sothing he can handle, I’ll take you there myself."

Places known for their expertise in poison were always shrouded in secrecy and hostility.

Going without a guide would be dangerous.

His own acquaintance with the poisonous marker had been purely by chance.

"Alright," Sinclair murmured, bringing the cigar to his lips as pale gray smoke curled and dissipated around him.

"Ask him about a golden poison."

His tone was calm as he briefly described the appearance and characteristics of the golden silkworm-like creature to Taylor.

Instinct told him that the little girl Camilla had picked up from the roadside was no ordinary child.

And whatever strange sensation he’d felt stirring inside him—that was no illusion either.