Rebirth Swapped Bride; Married to the Ruthless Cursed Billionaire Chapter 205: We need to Eliminate the boy

"Sweetheart,

has no one ever told you?"

Camilla couldn’t help but laugh at Sinclair’s blunt, textbook example of a straight man’s response.

"When soone asks what you’re doing, it ans they miss you," she said, leaning back against the sofa.

Her smile softened as she added gently, "sweetheart, I miss you."

Such a simple sentence, yet it made Sinclair’s breath hitch.

His heart twisted painfully, as if soone had wrung it dry.

"Camilla—"

His voice ca out rougher, deeper than before.

"Too cheesy, right?

I know,"

Camilla chuckled lightly. "It hasn’t even been a full day since you left, but sohow, it feels like forever."

She understood all too well—n like Sinclair showed love through actions, not words.

Taking a deep breath, she forced herself back into her usual carefree tone.

"Let’s not talk about that, you—"

"Camilla."

Sinclair’s husky voice ca through the phone.

"I miss you too."

Desperately.

So much that he wanted to lt her into his very bones, to fuse their souls together.

For all eternity, across lifetis, never to be parted again.

Gerald and the others imdiately lowered their heads, pretending they hadn’t heard a thing.

Camilla froze for a mont before breaking into a radiant smile.

"Sweetheart, the signal was bad just now. What did you say?"

"Camilla."

The corners of Sinclair’s lips curved upward, his eyes dark as ink.

"I miss you too. So much.

So very much."

He spoke slowly, with deliberate intensity.

Camilla’s heartbeat instantly quickened.

It turns out that a man like Sinclair, with his restrained and aloof deanor, is the most lethal when it cos to sweet nothings.

"Are you free for a video call?"

She wanted to see him.

"Sure," Sinclair glanced at the crimson stains splattered across his clothes, then surveyed the chaotic room, his dark eyes narrowing slightly.

"Wait till I finish showering, and I’ll send it to you."

As he spoke, he rose from the couch and strode out.

After showering... and sending it to his wife?

The way the CEO and his wife play... no, the way they dote on each other is truly... sothing.

The heads Gerald and the others dipped even lower.

But was this really sothing they should be hearing for free?

Camilla was about to agree when a mischievous glint suddenly flickered in her narrowed, beautiful eyes.

"Why wait till after the shower?

Can’t I watch while you’re in it?"

Sinclair’s footsteps paused for a split second before resuming their steady pace.

"If Camilla wants to watch, I don’t mind."

Camilla’s cheeks burned as she recalled the well-toned physique hidden beneath those clothes. Flustered, she hastily ended the call.

"Ahhh!!!"

The mont Sandra entered her room, she let out a piercing scream and swept everything off the table with a violent crash.

The once pristine floor was instantly littered with scattered objects.

After her frenzied outburst, she turned to Mrs. Porter, her eyes blazing with fury.

"Mom, we have to do sothing about this!"

But Mrs. Porter, sitting dazed on the sofa, was lost in her own thoughts and didn’t even register her daughter’s words.

This only stoked Sandra’s rage.

She stord over and shoved her mother hard, her voice dripping with frustration.

"Dad has gone this far, and all you can do is sit there like a lifeless doll?!"

"Your grandfather has already spoken.

It’s a done deal," Mrs. Porter murmured, rubbing the spot where her daughter had pushed her, her expression hollow with resignation.

"What else can I possibly do?"

"Oh, there’s plenty we can do," Sandra hissed, her eyes glinting with malice.

"We just need the right mont... to get rid of that little bastard."

Outside the door, an unseen figure quietly slipped away.

"Eliminate."

Mrs. Porter froze, her hands at her sides curling into tight fists.

"Eliminate?!"

"Exactly."

Sandra’s eyes narrowed, her expression icy as she gave a slow, deliberate nod.

"That’s the only way my position remains unchallenged."

Her sharp gaze locked onto her mother.

"And the only way you keep your seat as the Porter family wife.

A heavy silence fell over the room.

Mrs. Porter lowered her head, lost in thought for a long mont.

When she finally looked up again, her eyes had darkened with sothing ominous.

She studied Sandra before speaking, her voice asured.

"How do you plan to do it?"

"Simple..."

Sandra leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper as she laid out her sche.

Little did she know, she would never live to see that day.

One of the guards wasted no ti in relaying the news to Mr. Porter.

"That bastard!" Mr. Porter seethed, his voice dripping with venom.

"How dare she lay a finger on his own flesh and blood?

He deserves to die!"

His gaze darkened as he glanced at his sleeping son, the image of Sandra’s loathso face flashing through his mind.

A shadowy sche began to take shape in the depths of his thoughts.

anwhile, grandpa Porter remained blissfully unaware that his descendants had once again begun scheming against one another.

"The n the Luther Family sent to Mileage have vanished without a trace," John reported to grandpa Porter, his tone grave.

"Not a single word has co back."

"Useless fools," grandpa Porter muttered, his brow furrowing in displeasure.

"No wonder they’ve been cowering under the Luther Family’s thumb for generations."

He exhaled slowly, his voice turning icy.

"Send more n to assist them. And find out exactly which branch of the Luther Family controls that territory—I want every detail."

"Understood,"

John replied with a firm nod.

"And rember,"

Grandpa Porter’s voice was hoarse and gravelly, dripping with an indescribable nace.

"No matter the cost, that boy must never leave that place alive."

He rose slowly from his seat and strode toward the door.

"The Luther Family has held their place at the top for far too long. It’s ti for a change."

"Sweetheart."

Camilla pressed her phone closer, leaving a crimson lipstick imprint on the screen.

"Goodnight."

"Mmm."

Sinclair’s eyes narrowed slightly as he gazed at the luscious red lips on his screen.

"Goodnight."

Satisfied, Camilla set her phone aside—only to snatch it back instantly.

"Rember," she said, blinking playfully.

"You’re staying right here with .

No hanging up." Sinclair’s thin lips curved slightly.

"Alright."

I’ll stay with you.

Camilla had been busy all day and was exhausted.

She soon fell into a deep sleep after their conversation ended.

Listening to her steady breathing through the phone, Sinclair’s gaze softened with warmth.

After a long silence, he muted his end of the call.

"Co in."

At his command, Gerald entered with another man in tow.

The newcor was tall and lean, his face shrouded in shadows—so much so that his silhouette bore an uncanny resemblance to Sinclair.

"Mr. Luther, why did you summon him?"

Gerald asked cautiously.

"Stay here," Sinclair ordered the man, his voice low and deliberate.

"I’m going back to the capital."

"To the capital?!"

Gerald’s head snapped up in shock.

"There are countless factions monitoring the airport periter.

You’ll definitely be spotted if you go now—it’s far too dangerous."

"We’re not going to the airport.

I’ll drive back." Sinclair’s obsidian eyes remained icy and unreadable.

"Rember this—once anyone enters the hotel or their rooms, they don’t co back out.

Understood?"

"Yes, sir!"

Gerald knew better than to argue once the CEO had made up his mind.

He could only nod in reluctant agreent.