Rebirth Swapped Bride; Married to the Ruthless Cursed Billionaire Chapter 281: I forgive you Sweetheart

The sa night.

An upscale villa in San Francisco.

Antonio, dressed in a crisp white shirt, cradled a black ceramic cup in his slender fingers.

His warm yet piercing dark eyes lingered on the photograph displayed on his computer screen.

Bathed in the soft glow of the indoor lighting, his striking features exuded an undeniable elegance.

"What is it?"

he asked, his voice calm but expectant.

His assistant spoke in a low, asured tone.

"Sinclair has taken Miss Rodriguez to the Luther Family’s private airport.

They’ve left San Francisco."

"Left San Francisco?"

Antonio’s gaze snapped up, his brow furrowing slightly.

The Porter family’s downfall had sent shockwaves through the city, and San Francisco was still reeling from the aftermath.

With the Luther Family embroiled in their own turmoil, why would Sinclair choose this mont to leave—and with Camilla, no less?

The ntal image of the two of them wrapped in each other’s embrace flashed through his mind.

His fingers tightened around the cup, his expression darkening instantly.

"Find out where they went," he ordered, his voice edged with quiet intensity.

"By any ans necessary."

His icy voice stood in stark contrast to his otherwise gentle deanor.

"Yes," The assistant nodded before moving on to another matter.

"The person you asked us to investigate—we’ve gathered all the information."

As he spoke, he handed over a sealed file.

Antonio’s dark eyes flickered as he reached out to take it, slowly flipping through the contents.

The sharp lines of his profile cast an ambiguous shadow under the lamplight.

Antonio knew Camilla’s temperant well.

To get close to her, he had to target the people and things she cared about.

And this one—this was clearly the perfect choice.

Once everything was settled, he could take Camilla far from San Francisco to Country E.

There, under the protection of his family, even the Luther Family’s influence wouldn’t reach.

At that thought, Antonio glanced at the woman’s photo on the screen, the corners of his thin lips curling into an inscrutable smile.

Camilla, you can only be mine.

* *This was decided the mont I chose you.*

The scene shifts to a hot spring resort in City N.

"Sinclair?"

Unable to shake her worry, Camilla returned to the room.

It was a spacious suite spanning over a hundred square ters, fully equipped with every anity imaginable.

No one was on the bed. No one was in the living room.

Camilla ventured further inside and soon heard the steady rush of water coming from the bathroom.

Still not out?

A slight frown creased her brow, her eyes flickering with concern as she stepped toward the bathroom.

But the mont she reached the door, she froze, her beautiful eyes widening in shock.

The bathroom glass was completely transparent.

The tall, imposing figure showering inside was laid bare before her eyes.

Broad shoulders, a narrow waist, the well-defined ridges of his abs, and...

Everything was unmistakably clear.

Camilla swallowed hard and instinctively lowered her gaze.

Yet the next second, realization struck her. Sinclair’s my husband—what’s there to be shy about?!

Blushing furiously, Camilla raised her head again and looked over, her rosy lips parting slightly.

"Sweetheart, it’s ."

What she didn’t know was that the man inside the shower had already seen her every move clearly through the glass, his dark eyes narrowing with an inscrutable glint.

"You’re back so soon?"

The water stopped, and his voice, tense and rough, carried out from behind the frosted glass.

"It wasn’t soon—it’s been an hour," Camilla replied softly.

"Are you feeling any better?"

"Fine."

Sinclair fell silent for a few seconds before letting out a resigned sigh.

"Go rest.

Don’t worry about ."

"How could I not worry?"

Hearing the resignation in his voice, Camilla bit her lip, her heart aching.

Her voice softened even further.

"Don’t keep dousing yourself like this—even an iron constitution can’t withstand the cold.

Co out now."

"Not yet."

Sinclair gazed at Camilla, his voice hoarse and thick with barely restrained tension.

"Camilla, I can’t control myself."

Camilla’s resolve hardened, her cheeks flushing even deeper as she murmured softly,

"If you can’t control it... then don’t."

Rules were rigid, but people weren’t.

She couldn’t bear to see Sinclair suffer like this for her sake.

"No." Sinclair’s tone was calm and detached.

"I’m still atoning for my mistakes.

I don’t deserve to touch you."

His words lted Camilla’s already tender heart, stirring a pang of guilt within her. "Sweetheart..."

She bit down on her crimson lips, hesitating before finally whispering,

"I forgive you."

Sinclair’s thin lips curved slightly in a silent smirk.

Camilla didn’t press further.

She pushed open the bathroom door and stepped inside.

The one-piece swimsuit clung even more snugly to her curves.

In one swift motion, Sinclair swept her into his arms, lowering his head to claim her lips.

The night stretched endlessly before them, as if ti itself had dissolved. ——

The next day.

By the ti Tiffany woke, the sun was already high in the sky.

She blinked at the ceiling, dazed, before fragnts of the previous night flickered through her mind like a disjointed slideshow.

Jayden had drugged her.

No—to be precise, he slipped her sothing unspeakable.

Even in her unconscious state, she could vaguely recall the creeping numbness, the helplessness.

Narrowing her beautiful eyes, Tiffany dug deeper into her mories.

Then, when she had regained a sliver of awareness, the face that had lood over her was...

—Calvin?!

Did she actually... grope him?!

Her eyes widened in shock as she abruptly sat up in bed.

"Ouch—"

The sudden movent made Tiffany realize every muscle in her body ached.

Faint marks were visible wherever she looked.

As a romance novelist, even if she hadn’t experienced it personally, she’d written enough scenes to recognize the signs.

In an instant, she understood exactly what had happened.

Tiffany’s beautiful eyes trembled slightly as she froze in panic, her mind blank.

What should she do?

What on earth should she do?!

How could such a cliché, soap-opera-worthy scenario happen to her of all people?

Just then, a slender arm reached over and wrapped around her waist.

"Be good.

Stay with a little longer."

The man’s lazy, husky voice carried traces of exhaustion and weakness.

Tiffany: !! Her blood ran cold in that instant. Moving stiffly, she turned her head to look beside her.