Rebirth Swapped Bride; Married to the Ruthless Cursed Billionaire Chapter 163 - 5 days to find my grandfather-in-law

"What are you doing, Camilla?"

Sinclair stepped into the room, his sharp obsidian eyes imdiately narrowing into a dangerous glint at the sight before him—

Camilla standing close to another man, her head tilted up as she gazed at him with rapt attention.

The temperature in the living room seed to plumt at the sound of his low, icy voice.

Ramsey, trailing behind him, took in the scene.

Though the distance between Madam and the stranger wasn’t exactly intimate, it was clear the Boss wouldn’t see it that way.

He paused, instinctively straightening his suit jacket.

*The Taylor family really cranks up the AC,* he thought, suppressing a shiver.

*It’s freezing in here.*

Taylor, noticing his friend’s darkening expression, couldn’t help but smirk wryly.

He grabbed his shirt and shrugged it on, preparing to stand.

*If this jealous storm breaks loose in my house,* he mused, *who knows what the collateral damage will be.*

Vicente turned his head at the sound.

A strikingly handso man in a tailored black suit strode in with long, confident steps.

His dark, piercing eyes swept over Vicente with an icy gaze that carried an almost palpable authority.

So people were simply born to command.

Every movent exuded an effortless nobility and dominance that demanded respect.

With just one glance, Vicente knew exactly who this man was.

The spacious living room instantly grew suffocating the mont Sinclair entered.

But Camilla, oblivious to the sudden tension, imdiately turned toward the voice, her face lighting up.

"Sweetheart—"

Her voice caught her nose tingled with emotion.

It was as if all the overwhelming disbelief and excitent she had felt upon hearing about her grandfather finally settled into sothing steady.

Seeing his delicate wife staring at him with red-rimd eyes—like a wrong little rabbit—Sinclair paused.

His sharp, obsidian gaze flicked coldly over Vicente and Taylor before settling on Camilla, narrowing slightly.

"Co here."

Though his voice remained cool, his tone had softened unmistakably. I swear to God, he hadn’t done a thing.

Vicente’s lips twitched in a wry smile, clearly feeling wronged.

Taylor gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder, his pale face softening with a faint smile.

"Don’t take it to heart. Have a seat."

As he spoke, he turned to Ramsey, his voice gentle.

"Have soone bring us so hot tea."

"Right away."

Ramsey cast a quick glance at Sinclair before stepping out.

No sooner had Camilla approached than the man reached out, pulling her into his arms and settling her onto the sofa beside him. "What happened?"

"Mr. Vicente said..." Camilla steadied herself, comforted by the warmth of his hand.

"...he saw Grandpa sowhere near the border of country E."

Her eyes welled up again, unable to hold back the shimr of tears.

"I knew he was still alive.

I just found out about it."

Ever since Grandpa went missing, everyone around her—whether from the Sanchez family or elsewhere—claid his chances of survival were slim.

Only she stubbornly believed he was still alive.

And she was right.

At the border of Country E.

Sinclair’s dark, fathomless eyes glead with a hint of intrigue as he studied Vicente.

So this was the man Taylor had unintentionally rescued near the E-border.

"Let introduce you," Taylor said, his usual gentle smile playing on his lips as he glanced at Sinclair.

"Vicente," he turned toward the other man, then back,

"this is—"

"I know," Vicente cut in, the corner of his mouth quirking up as he t Sinclair’s gaze.

"Sinclair.

Your reputation precedes you."

The uncrowned king of Arica’s business world. Of course, this was the very man who made that timid little girl lissa turn pale at the re ntion of his na.

No wonder she was so terrified.

"Sa here."

Sinclair’s thin lips curled into the faintest of smiles as he looked at Vicente, his voice low and indifferent.

"I want to know Grandpa Rodriguez’s whereabouts.

Na your price."

If money could solve the problem, he saw no need to rely on personal connections.

So, he knew their rule of doing business for a fee?

Vicente studied Sinclair, a flicker of surprise passing through his dark eyes.

Camilla was equally taken aback.

She had worried that Sinclair’s blunt offer of money might offend Vicente.

But the reactions of those present quickly proved her concerns unnecessary.

"Since Sinclair has asked, just na your price," Taylor said to Vicente with a faint smile.

"He may not have much of anything else, but money certainly isn’t an issue—you can rest assured on that front."

His words were spoken with full understanding of Sinclair’s intentions.

Given Vicente’s status, settling matters with money was the most mutually beneficial approach.

"Since President Luther has brought it up, I’ll get straight to the point," Vicente leaned back in his seat, his deep eyes unreadable.

"Thirty million."

The sum was substantial, but by no ans excessive.

After all, he was Taylor’s friend—so courtesy was in order.

"Deal," Sinclair’s voice remained flat, not a flicker of hesitation crossing his face.

It was as if Vicente had said three thousand instead of thirty million.

Noticing his boss’s glance, Ramsey imdiately understood.

He pulled out a card from his bag and presented it to Vicente with both hands.

"Mr. Vicente, this card holds thirty million—no password required.

Please accept it."

He added, "If you’d prefer cash or foreign currency, I can arrange that for you right away."

"No rush," Vicente didn’t take the card, instead turning his gaze toward Sinclair and Camilla.

"The person appeared about a year ago.

As for where they went afterward, I’m not certain.

I’ll need to have my people look into it."

His dark eyes narrowed slightly.

"The paynt can wait until we have the information."

"No problem, but..." Sinclair gazed at Vicente, the corners of his lips curling into a faint smirk.

"What’s the deadline?"

Vicente did a quick ntal calculation.

"A week."

Sinclair took a slow sip of tea, his sharp eyes lifting to et Vicente’s.

"I’ll add another ten million."

If only all his clients were this generous—he could retire a decade early at this rate.

Vicente hesitated briefly.

"Five days."

Sinclair remained silent, his gaze shifting downward toward Camilla.

"What do you think, Camilla?"

Clearly, Camilla wasn’t satisfied and would have pressed further.

Vicente quickly interjected, "Five days is already the tightest deadline possible.

It’s not about the money."

Though truth be told, he really wanted that paycheck.

After waiting all these years, what were five more days?

"Alright," Camilla nodded, eting Vicente’s gaze.

"Thank you for your trouble, Mr. Vicente." Vicente chuckled.

"Just doing my job."

Inside the car.

"Sweetheart"

Camilla asked curiously, "what kind of place is this border region in Country E?"

"To be precise, that area isn’t exactly within Country E’s borders," Sinclair explained in a deep voice, his dark eyes narrowing slightly.

"It’s actually a junction point where several nations et."

"A notorious gray zone," he continued.

A place without laws or rules. Countless terrorists and assassin organizations had taken root there.

In that lawless land, money was the only thing that connected and sustained everything.

With enough cash, you could do absolutely anything you desire.

Since Vicente lived there, he naturally abided by those unspoken rules.

No one would casually reveal any information or clues about that place—unless it was strictly business.

Everything ca down to cold, hard cash. So that’s how it was.

A flash of understanding crossed Camilla’s beautiful eyes.

Just then, her phone rang sharply.

The mont she answered, a panicked woman’s voice scread through the receiver:

"Help !!"