Rebirth Swapped Bride; Married to the Ruthless Cursed Billionaire Chapter 348: Kiss me

"Beep—"

"Beep—"

The piercing ringtone from the speaker echoed sharply in the vast, silent room.

With each unanswered ring, Camilla’s heart sank deeper.

Her delicate fingers trembled slightly as she clutched the phone, her rosy lips pressed tightly together, leaving her fair complexion tinged with pallor.

"We’re sorry, the number you dialed is currently unavailable.

Please try again later.

Sorry—"

The automated, saccharine female voice crackled through the receiver.

"Sinclair.."

Camilla turned her glistening, red-rimd eyes toward her husband, anxiety swirling in their depths.

"Fany *never* ignores my calls.

Never."

Not even late at night.

Not even when she’s swamped.

"Maybe she just missed it."

Sinclair could practically feel the panic radiating from her, settling like a weight over his own chest.

Calvin reached out, enveloping her cold fingers in his large, warm palm, willing so of his steadiness into her.

"I’ll send soone to check Tiffany’s place right now."

"Okay,"

Camilla nodded repeatedly, her fingers twisting nervously in the fabric of her sleeves.

Sinclair pressed a tender kiss to her forehead before picking up his phone and dialing a number.

His voice, deep and composed, issued calm, thodical instructions.

Camilla’s eyes remained fixed, her entire body taut with anxiety.

Normally, she wouldn’t be this tense.

But the dream she’d just had felt unbearably real—the crushing grief of losing soone dear had left her deeply unsettled.

The mont Sinclair ended the call, Camilla’s phone buzzed to life.

She snatched it up, and the na flashing on the screen instantly lted the tension from her shoulders.

"Sweetheart, Fanny’s calling back!"

"Hmm."

A faint smile curved Sinclair’s lips as he watched the visible relief wash over Camilla’s face.

Yet beneath his calm exterior, a quiet pang of sothing bitter flickered in his chest.

That woman, Tiffany—she mattered a little too much.

Unaware of her husband’s unspoken thoughts, Camilla steadied her breathing and answered the call.

"Fanny?"

"Camilla, sorry about that,"

Tiffany’s voice was as sweet and gentle as ever.

"I was swamped earlier and missed your call.

What’s up?"

Before Camilla could answer, Tiffany chuckled playfully.

"Don’t tell ... you missed ?"

Hearing her best friend’s familiar tone, Camilla let out a quiet sigh of relief.

"Yeah, I did," she replied, steadying her voice to sound as casual as usual.

"I can’t go out much these days. If you have ti, co visit more often."

"Of course!

I’d love to spend every single day glued to you," Tiffany declared with exaggerated sincerity, only to shift gears abruptly in the next breath.

"Though I wonder if Big Boss would mind," she teased, laughter lacing her words.

"You have no idea—every ti he sees clinging to you, he looks like he wants to toss out with just his glare."

Camilla couldn’t help but laugh, her eyes lifting to et her husband’s gaze.

"Stop speaking such blunt truths."

Sinclair leaned against the headboard, the corner of his lips curling slightly.

His calm, steady gaze remained fixed on his wife, warmth simring deep in his eyes.

After chatting for a while longer, Camilla finally ended the call.

The worry and tension that had clouded her face earlier had completely lted away, leaving her relaxed from head to toe.

So it really had just been a nightmare—thank heavens.

"Feeling better now?"

Sinclair pulled Camilla onto his lap, his fingers lightly tracing the curve of her ear.

His dark eyes were fathomless, like ink spilled across midnight.

"Mhm," Camilla smiled.

"Much better."

Nothing was more reassuring than a false alarm—except, perhaps, getting back what was once lost.

"Camilla,"

Sinclair murmured, the quiet affection in his eyes weaving into an inescapable net, wrapping around the woman in his arms.

"There’s sothing I’ve never asked you—about Tiffany and ..."

His voice trailed off, his deep obsidian eyes brimming with solemn intensity.

"Who ans more to you?"

"What’s this?"

Camilla wrapped her arms around her husband, her nose brushing against his as a playful smile curved her crimson lips.

"My dear husband, are you jealous again?"

She tilted her head slightly, her lips hovering just a breath away from his.

"Sweetheart, let taste just how sour this jealousy is, hmm?"

But Sinclair raised two fingers, gently pressing them against her lips to stop her.

His dark, fathomless gaze held her captive like a bottomless abyss.

"Camilla," he murmured, his voice low and unwavering.

"You still haven’t answered ."

Seeing that even her usual charm wasn’t working this ti, Camilla knew he wouldn’t let her off without a proper response.

"Sweetheart, the two of you are different," she said softly, her clear eyes reflecting nothing but him—as if the world beyond had faded away.

"If sothing happened to Fanny, I’d be heartbroken.

I’d grieve, and the pain would be unbearable.

But if sothing happened to you..."

Her voice trembled slightly. "

I wouldn’t be able to go on living."

One was sorrow.

The other was survival.

The priorities were already crystal clear.

Having gotten the answer he wanted, a faint smile curled at the corners of Sinclair’s lips, his dark eyes glinting with an almost hypnotic allure.

"Now I can taste it," he murmured, lowering his gaze as he leaned in toward Camilla.

Yet what t his lips wasn’t her lips, but the delicate, porcelain tip of her finger.

"Not yet,"

Camilla teased, her eyes—still glistening with moisture—dancing with mischief as she looked at him.

"My turn to test you," she said, her red lips parting deliberately with each word.

"Between and Grandpa, who matters more to you?"

The sa tricky question—now thrown back at Sinclair.

Fair was fair—each should suffer once.

"You."

Sinclair’s expression remained unreadable, his deep voice steady and calm. Camilla hadn’t expected such an imdiate answer.

For a mont, she froze in surprise.

"Camilla, you an more to than anyone else in this world," Sinclair’s chiseled features looked exceptionally striking under the soft glow of the bedside lamp, yet his words burned with an intensity that took her breath away.

"Including myself."

Of course, Grandpa still ca first for him.

*You an more to than anyone else in this world, including myself.*

That deep, resonant voice struck straight into Camilla’s heart like a tidal wave.

She had always believed her love for Sinclair ran deeper than his love for her.

After all, hers was a love that had spanned two lifetis.

But now she realized—she was wrong. Whether in their past life or this one, no love could ever surpass Sinclair’s devotion to her.

Because his heart had already been filled to the brim.

Noticing Camilla’s silence, Sinclair gazed at her with eyes that shimred like scattered moonlight, tender yet profound.

"If my darling doesn’t believe , I’ll swear it in my life," he murmured, his voice rough yet steady, carrying the weight of absolute conviction.

"I believe you,"

"Of course I believe you," Camilla quickly replied.

"Darling, if you’re satisfied with my answer," Sinclair’s strong, sculpted arms tightened around Camilla’s slender waist, pulling her closer.

"Kiss ."

His godlike features, illuminated by the soft glow of the lights, looked almost too perfect to be real.

But the deepening intensity in his dark, narrow eyes was unmistakably genuine. "Of course I’m satisfied."

Camilla turned her head and pressed her lips to his.

Sinclair cradled the back of her head, deepening the kiss.

Love, boundless and unrestrained, enveloped them.

anwhile, at Antonio’s Family Hospital.