Rebirth Swapped Bride; Married to the Ruthless Cursed Billionaire Chapter 238: Mr. Sinclair is in the hospital

"We’re currently in Mileage," Gerald stared at Sinclair, his heart skipping a beat.

"President Luther, don’t you rember?"

Could it be... President Luther has lost his mory?

But that can’t be—he still recognizes .

If it’s not amnesia, then why doesn’t he rember anything?!

The two doctors beside them paled in terror.

If sothing went wrong with the sedative and caused President Luther any harm...

None of them would escape unscathed. Sinclair frowned, offering no reply.

His sharp, dark eyes swept over Gerald and the others, their depths icy and unfathomable.

An invisible weight pressed down on Gerald, cold sweat instantly soaking through the back of his shirt.

The others cowered even lower, not daring to breathe too loudly.

The room plunged into a suffocating silence. President Luther’s aura is even more intimidating than before!

Gerald thought to himself, suppressing a shiver.

Fortunately, it didn’t last long.

Sinclair withdrew his gaze, his cold, heavy eyes shifting toward the window.

"Everyone, leave."

His voice was hoarse and devoid of warmth, giving no hint of his true emotions.

"President Luther, are you—"

Gerald wanted to ask if he was feeling unwell, but one glance at his boss’s detached, icy profile silenced him.

"Understood!"

With that, he ushered the others out of the room. In an instant, Sinclair was alone.

He picked up the phone from the nightstand, staring at the lock screen—Camilla’s sweet, blissful smile—before glancing at the ti.

In that mont, countless images and fragnts flashed through his mind. In those mories, Camilla no longer looked at him with cold rejection, but with tender reliance.

The expression on his face was no longer one of rejection and indifference, but of sweet delight.

"She’s clearly my Camilla," Sinclair murmured in a low, complex voice, his strikingly handso features half-hidden in shadow, his gaze distant.

"Truly... enviable."

anwhile, at the Luther Family ancestral ho. Camilla sat slumped against the wall, her delicate face covered in a sheen of cold sweat.

Twice now, the sharp pain in her chest has struck—both tis because of Sinclair.

This sudden recurrence... could it an sothing had happened to him?!

At the thought, her beautiful eyes trembled slightly.

Fortunately, the familiar, stabbing ache in her heart gradually began to subside.

Gritting her teeth, she pushed herself up using the wall for support and staggered toward the phone on the sofa.

Just as she picked it up to dial, Sinclair’s call ca through first.

She answered imdiately.

"Camilla."

The man’s voice was hoarse and deep, as if carrying the weight of countless unspoken words.

An inexplicable ache welled up in Camilla’s heart, her eyes involuntarily reddening at the rims.

She couldn’t quite explain why.

"I’m here, sweetheart" Sweetheart?

On the other end of the line, Sinclair heard the woman’s familiar, sweet voice and the tenderness in her tone.

His dark eyes flickered slightly, his fingers gripping the phone so tightly they gradually turned pale.

This was the first ti Camilla had ever called him that.

When Sinclair remained silent for a long mont, Camilla frowned.

"Sweetheart, did sothing happen?"

"No, it’s just—Camilla—"

The man’s husky voice sounded again through the phone. "I missed you."

"I missed you too," Camilla leaned back against the sofa, fingers absently tracing the necklace around her neck.

"Sweetheart, you have to co back as soon as you’re done with work," Her voice was soft, carrying an infinite tenderness.

"Without you here, I can’t sleep well."

"You don’t have to finish everything—"

Camilla’s words tore at Sinclair’s heart, twisting it into knots of bittersweet ache.

"I’m coming back right now." He needed to see Camilla—the sooner, the better.

This feeling was too surreal, like a dream he feared would vanish the mont he woke.

"Right now?"

Camilla startled, glancing at the clock on the wall.

It was already past eleven at night.

Was Sinclair planning to make another exhausting trip back and forth like last night?!

"Sweetheart," She sat up straight, her face etched with concern.

"It’s very late.

Get so proper rest tonight—you can co back tomorrow."

"As long as I can see Camilla, it’s never too late," Sinclair threw off the covers and got out of bed, grabbing a coat as he headed out the door.

"Wait for ."

Nothing mattered more to him than seeing Camilla as soon as possible. Not even his own life.

"Sweetheart, you—"

Camilla’s heart ached, wanting to stop him. Suddenly, a dull thud ca from the other end of the line—the sound of sothing heavy collapsing.

Then ca Gerald’s panicked shout.

"President Luther!!"

The call cut off abruptly. What happened to Sinclair?!

Camilla froze, her face etched with worry.

She imdiately redialed.

But this ti, the call rang until it disconnected on its own—no one answered.

Her expression grew more anxious, her fingers trembling slightly around the phone.

A few seconds later, she dialed Ramsey’s cell phone instead.

"Madam—"

Ramsey’s voice was alert, clearly not resting yet.

Camilla’s tone was tense.

"Where is Sinclair right now?"

"I’m not sure. It seems President Luther deliberately kept in the dark about his whereabouts this ti," Ramsey replied with a frown.

"What’s wrong, Madam?"

"Sinclair might be in trouble," Camilla said, her beautiful eyes narrowing.

"Give Gerald’s contact details."

If Sinclair had intentionally hidden his movents from Ramsey, he wouldn’t have left any clues for him to find.

Rather than wasting ti on investigations, it was better to confront the source directly.

President Luther in trouble?!

Ramsey’s expression turned icy and grave the mont he heard Camilla’s words.

"Please hold on, I’ll send it over to you right away."

As soon as the call ended, he grabbed his keys and sped toward the Luther Family ancestral ho.

anwhile... Gerald had just rushed the suddenly collapsed Sinclair to the family’s private hospital with his team.

His work phone abruptly rang.

"Gerald speaking.

Who’s this?"

"It’s , Camilla."

A woman’s crisp, lodious voice ca through the line.

Madam?!

Gerald stiffened, the phone suddenly felt like a hot potato in his hand.

Was it too late to hang up now?!

Clearly, it was. Camilla’s icy tone carried an unmistakable authority.

"What’s wrong with Sinclair?"

boss had given strict orders—no one was to breathe a word about his condition to Madam.

Gerald recalled that President Luther had collapsed while on the phone with his wife.

Choosing his words carefully, he offered a half-truth in response.

"President Luther isn’t feeling well—he just fainted."

Camilla’s beautiful eyes narrowed, her tone sharpening.

"Where is he now?"

Gerald swallowed hard, his face twisting with unease.

"President Luther... he’s..."

Had Sweetheart specifically ordered them not to tell her?

"I’m a doctor—I know Sinclair’s condition better than anyone," Camilla said, realization dawning as worry flooded her gaze.

"If anything happens to him because of your delay, do you really think you can bear that responsibility?!"