Rebirth Swapped Bride; Married to the Ruthless Cursed Billionaire Chapter 299: Follow Miss Violet and find out why she needed

In the courtyard.

Taylor paused before the carved door, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly as he gazed into the distance.

His voice was calm but deliberate.

"Have soone follow Violet.

I want to know what she plans to do with that money."

Taylor knew all too well how fiercely proud that woman was.

For her to ask him for a loan so soon after returning to the country—sothing must have happened.

The butler studied Taylor’s tall, straight-backed figure, hesitating for a mont before swallowing his words.

"...Understood."

Taylor could only hope the master wouldn’t stumble over the sa stone twice.

anwhile, in the living room.

"Grandmother Porter," Camilla handed the elderly woman a freshly brewed cup of tea with both hands, her delicate features softened by a polite, practiced smile.

"You must be exhausted after such a long journey."

Grace and courtesy were never wasted, no matter the occasion.

"Not at all.

I had so personal business in the capital anyway—this was just a convenient stop," Grandma.

Porter took the tea from Camilla’s hands, her deep-set eyes narrowing montarily before relaxing again.

"Yet you bear neither parasitic insects nor venom," she remarked, her voice laced with skepticism.

"What brings you to seek out an old woman like ?"

Clearly, Taylor had been deliberately vague when he sought her help regarding Sinclair’s condition.

"The venom isn’t in ," Camilla replied, her striking eyes fixed intently on the elderly woman, her expression grave.

"It’s my husband.

Granny, do you know of any way to break a Life bound Curse?"

A Life bound Curse?

The teacup froze halfway to Mrs. Porter’s lips.

When she looked up again, her brows had knitted together, and sothing unreadable flickered in the depths of her gaze.

After a long pause, she finally spoke, her voice low and asured.

"The nature of a Lifebound Curse is... unique. Breaking it is no simple feat."

Camilla’s luminous eyes dimd at the old woman’s words.

The sa answer again.

It seed there was no choice but to resort to that desperate asure.

"However," Grandma.

Porter set down her teacup and fixed Camilla with a solemn gaze before speaking again.

"To make a proper judgnt, I’ll need to see the afflicted person first."

Hearing this, a flicker of hope reignited in Camilla’s heart.

"Of course.

When would it be convenient for you?"

She was eager to take grandma. Porter to the Luther residence imdiately examined Sinclair’s condition.

But she had done her research—she knew the Mileage people had strict protocols when it ca to breaking curses, and timing had to follow their traditions.

"Tomorrow afternoon.

There are preparations to be made beforehand."

The elderly woman’s voice was unhurried as she reached into her robe and produced a small black porcelain vial, handing it to Camilla.

"Inside is a dicinal pill.

Have your husband take it before eight o’clock tonight."

Camilla held the vial but didn’t imdiately tuck it away.

"What is it?"

"It’s a specially formulated redy from our clan.

It stimulates dormant parasites hidden within the body—ideal for cases like your husband’s."

Grandma.

Porter explained matter-of-factly.

"Of course, you may choose not to use it. I could send my own life-bound poison into his body to investigate instead.

But that would an more suffering for him."

Camilla understood Grandma Porter’s implication and carefully tucked the porcelain vial into her bag.

She decided to examine the dicine’s properties herself before giving it to Sinclair.

When it ca to his health, she couldn’t afford to take any risks.

"By the way," Granny Porter’s voice turned grave as she studied Camilla.

"Do you know where the shaman who cast the Life bound poison is?

Or do you have any leads?"

She specifically referred to the caster of the poison—not the one who had deployed it.

Camilla realized the old woman was talking about the Mileage poisonous Calvin had captured.

"You’re looking for him?"

Grandma Porter observed Camilla’s reaction and knew the young woman must have so information.

"Indeed.

Finding him was one of my main reasons for coming here.

As for why..."

A shadow of hesitation crossed her aged face.

"It involves a clan secret, so I can’t disclose the details.

I hope you’ll understand."

As if sensing Camilla’s wariness, the old woman quickly added, "But I can assure you this—locating him will do your husband no harm.

Only good may co of it."

Good for Sinclair without any harm?

Hearing this, Camilla raised her beautiful eyes that had been lowered in thought.

"His’s in my hands now."

"In your hands?"

Grandma Porter’s deep-set eyes widened in astonishnt.

"Could you take to see him first?"

"I’ll need to make a call to check."

In an upscale private hospital in San Francisco, within the dissection room.

Skeletons lined the walls, accompanied by nurous jars containing perfectly preserved embryos.

The sharp scent of formaldehyde hanging in the air lent the space an eerie, oppressive atmosphere.

Every hospital and dical school had such dissection rooms.

While dical students might be accustod to them, ordinary people would only find them terrifying.

The assistant shivered involuntarily as he entered.

"Sir—"

Antonio truly couldn’t understand why his employer preferred spending ti in such a place.

"I thought I made it clear not to disturb when I’m here?"

Antonio’s slender fingers, clad in white gloves, held a scalpel with practiced ease as he thodically dissected the cadaver on the operating table.

With precise, unhurried movents, he sliced through layers of fat, muscle, tendons, and bone—each cut executed with clinical precision.

Yet to his assistant, the scene was nothing short of horrifying.

"S-sir," the man stamred, suppressing a shudder as he averted his gaze.

"The n we sent to the tail Miss Rodriguez... they’ve been discovered by the Luther Family.

All contact has been lost." Discovered already?

Antonio’s hand stilled mid-incision, his brow furrowing sharply.

"Useless fools!"

The words cut through the sterile air, his usually composed and handso face twisting into sothing icy under the harsh laboratory lights.

"Sir..."

The assistant could sense the fury radiating from Antonio’s imposing presence and instinctively lowered his head further.

"Our people have been extrely cautious," he hesitated before continuing cautiously, "but the Luther Family’s influence in the capital runs deeper than we anticipated..."

Antonio set down the scalpel and deliberately peeled off his rubber gloves, his movents unnervingly calm.

"Have I ever told you that excuses are unacceptable—under any circumstances?"

His tone remained as composed as ever, yet the icy undertone made the assistant’s breath hitch, silencing him instantly.

"Yes, sir."

Antonio’s voice was low, laced with unmistakable displeasure.

"How much do those incompetents know?"

"Rest assured, sir," the assistant answered truthfully.