Rebirth Swapped Bride; Married to the Ruthless Cursed Billionaire Chapter 261: “Let me take the lead tonight… okay?”

Sweetheart"

Camilla crouched beside Sinclair, wrapping her arms around his.

"There are still things I need to ask Jonathan," she said, her clear, guileless eyes fixed on his dark, razor-sharp gaze.

"Let him go for now, okay?"

Sinclair’s pitch-black pupils contracted slightly as he turned to look at her, his intense stare locking onto her beautiful eyes—eyes that held only his reflection.

The storm of rage and anguish that had consud him gradually subsided.

His thin lips parted, his voice hoarse and strained. "Alright."

The long, powerful fingers that had been clamped around Jonathan’s throat slowly loosened their grip.

"Cough... cough..."

Gasping for air, Jonathan clutched his throat, coughing violently.

Camilla shot Uncle Carlos a aningful glance.

With a nod, Uncle Carlos imdiately stepped forward, half-supporting, half-dragging Jonathan out of the room.

The living room was now empty except for Sinclair and Camilla.

"Sweetheart," Camilla leaned forward and wrapped her arms tightly around Sinclair’s rigid fra.

"It’s over now," she murmured, her voice soft yet unwavering.

"Everyone who hurts you will pay for what they’ve done."

"Mm."

Sinclair’s arms, veins bulging, crushed her against him with a force that nearly lded her into his body.

As he breathed in her soothing scent, the storm inside him gradually settled.

To the world, he was an untouchable deity—but for her alone, he was a devoted believer.

Their souls drew closer, each becoming the other’s salvation.

Ti slipped away, minute by minute.

Finally, the fury in Sinclair’s eyes faded completely.

He stood, cradling Camilla effortlessly in his arms before gently lowering her onto the living room sofa.

Then he knelt before her, one knee pressed to the floor, and tenderly tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

His gaze was nothing but warmth and tenderness.

"Hungry?"

Originally, they had planned to eat, but he had kept her waiting until now.

Camilla wasn’t particularly hungry, but she wanted Sinclair to join her for the al, so she smiled and nodded.

"A little."

"Be a good girl and wait. I’ll make you sothing to eat."

A faint smirk played on Sinclair’s lips as he stood up, pressing a kiss to Camilla’s forehead before turning toward the kitchen.

But the mont he took a step, the hem of his shirt was caught by her slender, delicate fingers.

"Let help you cook."

"Sweetheart," Sinclair looked down at her, his lips quirking in helpless amusent.

"The grease and smoke aren’t good for your skin."

He knew exactly how much his little princess cared about her appearance.

That was why, even though he craved her cooking, he couldn’t bear to let her step into the kitchen.

"I don’t mind," Camilla gazed up at him, her bright, expressive eyes curved into crescents.

"I’m coming with you," She reached out with a coquettish lilt in her voice.

"Sweetheart, carry ."

Just four simple words, yet her sweet, velvety tone made them ripple with playful affection.

Sinclair’s strikingly handso face softened into an expression of helpless adoration.

Every decision he’d ever made could be overturned by Camilla—because the mont she looked at him like this and turned on her charm, he was utterly powerless to resist.

"Alright," He scooped his petite wife into his arms but still didn’t let her help, instead settling her onto the kitchen counter.

"Just sit here and keep company, sweetheart.

Don’t move."

"Okay," Camilla helped him out of his coat, carefully rolled up his sleeves, then pressed a tender kiss to the corner of his lips.

"You work so hard for , darling."

At this rate, he might not get dinner ready in ti.

Sinclair’s dark, hooded eyes deepened as they lingered on her tempting lips, now re inches away.

But in the end, he couldn’t bear to let her go hungry.

Turning away, he picked up the knife with his long, elegant fingers and began deftly preparing the ingredients.

"If cooking for you is hard work, then I’ll gladly do it for the rest of my life."

In their little world, warmth and sweetness filled the air.

The night grew deeper.

"Sinclair.."

Camilla shook her head slightly, her glistening eyes gazing up at Sinclair with a delicate pout.

"I’m full."

"Alright."

Sinclair’s gaze darkened as he noticed the trace of milk at the corner of his wife’s lips, his narrow eyes smoldering like gathering storm clouds.

"Let’s head back to the room."

As he spoke, his strong arms effortlessly lifted Camilla, carrying her upstairs.

A faint blush colored Camilla’s cheeks, but a flicker of mischief flashed through her eyes.

This ti, she wouldn’t let him have his way so easily.

Not after how ruthlessly he had handled her earlier.

She needed to find a way to teach him a proper lesson.

*Thud!* The mont the door closed, Sinclair swiftly deposited Camilla onto the sofa.

The sweet fragrance ignited the fire within him completely.

Camilla was nearly breathless from the domineering kiss, her beautiful eyes glistening with unshed tears.

No—this couldn’t go on any further.

She pressed a hand against the man’s chest, urging him to pull away.

Sinclair frowned but yielded to her push, reluctantly breaking the contact.

"What’s wrong, Camilla?"

His voice was rough with restraint, the huskies only adding to its allure.

"sweetheart" Camilla t his gaze, her breathing still uneven.

"Let take the lead tonight... okay?"

Sinclair’s dark eyes bore into hers, his Adam’s apple bobbing as his gaze turned unfathomably deep.

"What does my baby want to do?"

A bead of sweat trailed down his striking features before clinging to the sharp line of his jaw, then falling—an image of pure temptation.

*Damn, he’s dangerous.*

*Hold back.

You have to hold back.*

Sinclair must be punished.

Camilla steeled her resolve, pressing a soft kiss to Sinclair’s sharp nose.

"You’ll find out soon enough," she murmured, her voice laced with determination.

"Don’t worry—I won’t disappoint you."

In matters like this, Sinclair had always taken the lead.

But now, for the first ti, Camilla was stepping forward, promising not to let him down.

That alone piqued his interest.

"Alright," Sinclair’s dark eyes narrowed slightly, his voice rougher than usual.

"But I need to take a shower first."

Otherwise, he wouldn’t be able to wait. Camilla nodded eagerly.

"Go ahead.

I’ll get things ready."

With an composed expression, Sinclair turned and walked into the bathroom.

The mont the sound of running water filled the air, Camilla rushed to the bedside and dug out the wedding gift Tiffany had given her earlier.

At the sight of its contents, her cheeks burned crimson.

She hastily grabbed two necessary items and tucked them beneath her pillow.

Taking a deep breath, she composed herself, pretending nothing had happened.

Within minutes, the bathroom door swung open.

Sinclair stepped out, a towel wrapped around his waist, his sculpted, muscular physique on full display.

Only the wound on his abdon stood out starkly.

At the sight of it, the last trace of hesitation in Camilla’s eyes vanished.

If he could hurt himself this badly without a second thought, then a little punishnt surely wouldn’t faze him.

Sinclair tossed the towel he’d used to dry his hair aside carelessly.

"Absolutely no rcy," Camilla thought, her gaze lingering on the wound for a mont before she steeled herself.

"He needs to learn his lesson—never to harm himself so recklessly again."

Sinclair braced his hands on either side of her, caging her in his arms, his dark eyes burning with intensity.

"Where’s the stuff you prepared, baby?"

His scorching breath made Camilla’s cheeks flush uncontrollably, but she forced a calm tone.

"Lie down first."