Rebirth Swapped Bride; Married to the Ruthless Cursed Billionaire Chapter 350: Jonathan’s plans keep backfiring

"Thank you for your kindness," Tiffany replied softly, declining the offer.

"But I’m not used to having soone watch over while I rest."

"I see,"

Jaina said, turning to a point at the sofa beside the hospital bed.

"Then I’ll move the sofa to the outer room to sleep."

Before Tiffany could refuse, she effortlessly lifted the small sofa and carried it toward the door.

Pausing at the threshold, she glanced back with a warm smile.

"If you feel unwell at any point, just call for anyti."

Tiffany’s eyes widened in surprise.

Though the sofa was compact, its base was made of solid wood.

This caregiver, who appeared delicate and petite, possessed astonishing strength.

Checking the ti, Tiffany headed to the bathroom for a quick wash and took stock of her injuries.

When she stepped out, she walked over to the table, picked up the fruit knife, and slipped it beneath her pillow.

Only then did she feel slightly more at ease.

She turned off the lights and settled in for the night.

Unbeknownst to Tiffany, the caregiver—who had seed so harmless monts ago—now stood outside the door, her expression icy as she listened intently to every sound within.

Only after ensuring Tiffany had fallen asleep did she tiptoe back to the sofa.

Ti flew by, and three days passed in the blink of an eye.

The late autumn weather in San Francisco had lost its crisp clarity, now shrouded in a gloomy haze.

Layers of dark clouds lood overhead, as if brewing a storm of untold ferocity.

The atmosphere was unbearably oppressive.

The sa tension hung over the Luther Family villa on the outskirts of the city.

"What’s going on?"

Jonathan’s brow furrowed deeply. "There’s been no news from the estate these past three or four days?"

"None," replied a gaunt-faced man, shaking his head gravely.

"Our inside contacts at the estate have gone completely silent.

It’s likely..."

The man glanced cautiously at Jonathan’s expression before continuing in a hushed tone.

"They’ve been discovered.

Grandpa Luther’s drastic actions against you might very well be because of this."

"Do I even need you to tell that?"

Jonathan’s expression shifted through a spectrum of emotions, his dark eyes simring with barely contained fury.

First, the n he had sent to tail his target were discovered.

Then, his informants were rooted out one by one.

His dad must already be suspicious of him.

One thing after another was spiraling out of his control.

After a long, tense silence, Jonathan finally spoke again.

"Sinclair hasn’t shown himself in the past three or four days?"

"That’s right.

Our people are certain he hasn’t left his residence," the gaunt man replied with a quick nod.

"All company matters have been handled entirely by Ramsey."

If Sinclair hadn’t made an appearance, there was no doubt sothing had happened to him.

At least that was one of the few pieces of good news lately.

Jonathan gave a slow nod, his expression easing slightly.

"And what about those restless branches of the family?"

"Only three of the heads have taken a clear stance.

The others are still hesitating."

"Backing out?"

Jonathan’s eyes turned sharp, brimming with barely suppressed fury.

"A bunch of fools who don’t know their place," he muttered, his expression darkening further, jaw clenched tight.

"If that’s how they want to play, then I won’t bother sparing their dignity."

The gaunt man beside him tensed, his expression grave.

The man understood—his boss was about to make a move.

Those branch family heads who had chickened out would soon find themselves forced off the stage entirely.

Sure enough.

When Jonathan spoke again, his gaze was ice-cold, laced with ruthless nace.

"Send soone imdiately to leak their dirty secrets and underhanded dealings to the other branch families."

The Luther Family’s empire was vast, but eighty percent of it belonged to the main lineage.

The remaining twenty percent was all the branch families had to fight over.

With too many mouths and too little to go around, everyone was eager to climb over others for a bigger share.

And the hidden skeletons in their closets?

They were the perfect weapons.

"Yes," The gaunt man nodded.

"I’ll make the arrangents right away."

"Wait."

Jonathan suddenly rembered sothing and called out to stop the departing man.

"Has the team sent to deal with Tiffany returned?

I have another task for them."

Being abruptly placed under house arrest had made him forget this minor matter.

Hearing Jonathan bring it up, the lean man inwardly cursed.

"They... they haven’t returned.

The trackers on them are currently showing their location in the river near the estate."

"What? In the river near the estate?"

Jonathan jolted in shock, his expression darkening with a growing alarm.

Could it be that his move against Tiffany had also been discovered?!

How was this possible? She was just an insignificant, ordinary woman—hardly worth anyone’s notice.

His brow furrowed tightly, his face now visibly agitated.

"Send people imdiately through every possible channel to track down that woman.

I need to know exactly what happened!!"

"Yes,"

The gaunt man turned away, his footsteps growing heavier with each step.

This job was getting harder by the day.

anwhile, in the backyard of the Luther Estate.

"Sweetheart,"

Camilla adjusted her goggles and steadied the gun in her hands, aiming at the target downrange.

"Want to make it a competition?"

Under Sinclair’s guidance these past few days, she had grown utterly enamored with shooting.

Blessed with sharp eyesight and natural talent, her progress had been astonishing.

In just a short ti, her accuracy had beco remarkably precise.

In the corner, a man dressed in sleek black casual wear lounged in a chair, his long legs crossed.

Hearing his wife call for him, his lips curved into a faint smirk.

"Alright."

Sinclair rose and walked over to stand beside Camilla.

"How do you want to play, Camilla?"

Even though Camilla saw this exquisitely handso man every day, she should have long grown accustod to his beauty.

Yet, the re change in his attire was enough to take her breath away.

For a fleeting mont, she even thought—when it ca to looks, she was the one who had struck gold.