Rebirth Swapped Bride; Married to the Ruthless Cursed Billionaire Chapter 308: Miss Violet went to visit a little boy named AC

"It was pure serendipity that led us to help little Carie Ann,"

Grandpa Luther gazed at the sisters before him, his weathered face softening into a grandfatherly smile.

"We never expected anything in return."

This was the unvarnished truth in his heart.

At this mont, the elderly gentleman remained blissfully unaware of the existence of the Twin Fate poison.

No need for assistance?

Iris’s delicate brows knitted slightly as her gaze flickered toward Camilla and Sinclair.

From the instant she’d stepped into this parlor, her life-bound gu had vibrated with alarming intensity, sensing the parasitic presence coiled within that man’s body.

Could it be... these people didn’t seek her expertise to break the curse?

"Grandfather speaks truly," Camilla’s lodic voice cut through the tension as she t Iris’s questioning look with a composed smile.

"Saving Carie Ann required no extraordinary effort on our part, and we’d never presu to make demands because of it."

Her phoenix eyes narrowed ever so slightly, glinting with unspoken purpose.

"However... there are certain other matters I’d like to discuss with you privately."

"Let’s talk later."

The weight behind those two simple words carried different anings for different people.

Grandpa Luther assud it was about Carrie Ann’s speech issues and didn’t give it much thought.

Yet Iris seed to grasp Camilla’s unspoken ssage, nodding subtly in understanding.

After exchanging a few brief words with the old master, the group made their way to the study on the second floor.

The living room fell into sudden silence.

Grandpa Luther’s gaze lingered on the staircase, his deep-set eyes narrowing thoughtfully.

Uncle Carlos sensed sothing amiss and imdiately stepped forward.

"Grandpa, is everything alright?"

"Uncle Carlos," the old man murmured, his brow furrowing as he voiced his unease.

"Sothing feels off...

I think Sinclair and Camilla are keeping sothing from ."

The earlier lightness in the air had vanished without a trace.

"Keeping sothing from you?"

Uncle Carlos’s frown flickered briefly before he smoothed his expression, adopting a reassuring tone.

"How could the boss Sinclair and his wife possibly hide anything from you when they’re right under your watchful eyes?"

Grandpa Luther didn’t respond imdiately, his fingers idly toying with the sandalwood prayer beads in his hand.

His mind was preoccupied with the subtle expressions he’d noticed on Camilla and the others monts earlier.

Uncle Carlos stood quietly to the side, not daring to interrupt the old man’s contemplation.

"These youngsters always insist on bearing their burdens alone," the old man finally said, pausing the rhythmic turning of his beads as he looked up at uncle Carlos.

"I still can’t shake this unease.

Go check on them for ."

Understanding his master’s concern, uncle Carlos gave a respectful nod.

"Right away, sir."

anwhile, in the spacious study...

The room was unusually crowded. In one corner, Sinclair and Taylor sat across from each other at a chessboard—one strikingly handso with sharp features, the other exuding gentle refinent.

Together, they made a remarkably striking pair.

On the sofa nearby, Camilla sat with Iris and two others.

"Since you two already know each other," Camilla said smoothly, "that makes things even better."

Camilla glanced at Grandma Porter before shifting her gaze to Iris, who was holding Carrie Ann in her arms.

"I’d like to ask if you know a way to break the Life bound poison," she said. With Iris present, Grandma Porter didn’t dare speak out of turn.

"The Life bound poison is rather unique," Iris replied, her voice sweet but carrying an unexpected gravity.

"The bond of shared life and death can’t be severed—only transferred to another host."

Her eyes flickered briefly toward Sinclair’s direction.

"As for specifics, I’d need to examine the posion first."

She already knew most of this beforehand.

Camilla nodded, then looked at Carrie Ann nestled comfortably in Iris’s arms.

"Before that, there’s one more thing."

Iris and Grandma Porter exchanged a quiet glance, waiting for Camilla to state her terms.

anwhile...

"Sinclair."

Taylor set down the chess piece between his fingers, his handso face softening with a faint smile.

"You’ve really changed a lot."

Everyone knew that according to Sinclair temperant, he would never yield to anyone’s threats—not even when his own life was at stake.

After all, apart from Grandpa Luther, he cared for no one in this world.

Death was never sothing he feared.

To him, it might even be considered a form of release.

Sinclair casually placed the chess piece between his fingers onto the board, then lifted his gaze toward Camilla.

His thin lips curved into a slow, enigmatic smile.

"Can’t help it," he murmured.

His dark, narrowed eyes held an unfathomable depth, like an abyss that swallowed all light.

"There’s soone more important than life now. I can’t bear to let go."

Couldn’t bear to die.

Couldn’t bear to leave.

Couldn’t bear to see her in pain.

So people are worth more than life itself—too precious to let go.

Taylor’s calm eyes darkened abruptly.

Taylor knew that feeling all too well.

And yet, in the end, all he had gained was betrayal.

At the thought, the image of that slender figure surfaced in his mind, and a faint, self-deprecating smile tugged at his lips.

His focus wavered as he resud the chess ga, his thoughts elsewhere.

Just then, his private phone—stuck inside his coat—rang.

It was a call from the Taylor family estate.

Taylor pressed the answer button and raised the phone to his ear.

"What is it?"

His voice was as composed and smooth as ever, devoid of any discernible emotion.

This had beco his default deanor in recent years.

Sinclair lifted the cup beside him, his deep, ink-black eyes fixed intently on Camilla.

"Sir,"

The butler’s voice ca through the phone. "We’ve found out," he reported truthfully, relaying the information he had just learned.

"Miss Violet took the money to the most renowned children’s hospital in San Francisco and paid the dical expenses for a little boy nad ACE."

A children’s hospital?

A boy nad ACE?

Taylor’s calm brow slowly furrowed.

As far as he knew, her only remaining family was her ailing mother.

So where did this little boy co from—soone so important that she would swallow her pride and ask him for money?

"How old is the boy?"

Taylor asked, his voice low and asured.

"What’s his condition?"

"About three or four years old," the butler answered, recalling the report from his subordinates.

"Our people only have a general idea—it seems to be leukemia."

Three or four years old?

Taylor remained silent, but his brows furrowed even deeper without him realizing it.

A vague suspicion slowly surfaced in his mind.

"Send soone imdiately to investigate Violet’s life abroad these past few years—and the identity of that little boy."

When Taylor spoke again, his voice had dropped to a lower, graver tone.

Violet?

Sinclair turned his gaze toward Taylor.

That woman had reappeared?