Rebirth Swapped Bride; Married to the Ruthless Cursed Billionaire Chapter 367: Transfer of all Sinclair’s company shares to Ca

"I have full confidence in President ga’s capabilities,"

Sinclair’s thin lips parted slightly, his aloof and indifferent gaze exuding arrogance and detachnt.

"Now, let’s discuss the matter of compensation," he said, the corners of his lips curling into a faint, calculated smile.

"What does President ga desire?"

"Assisting President Luther is an honor for ," Stephen replied, his strikingly handso yet pallid face adorned with a gentle smile, radiating warmth and refinent.

"As for compensation, there’s no need."

No monetary reward could compare to a favor owed by the heir of the Luther Family.

Stephen had long sought an opportunity to collaborate with the Luther Corporation to expand the ga family’s market in Arica, but the chance had never presented itself.

Who would have thought it would co so unexpectedly?

At this thought, the smile on Stephen’s lips deepened ever so slightly.

For this, he truly had his dear step brother to thank.

"We’re both businessn," Sinclair toyed with the obsidian ring on his finger, his thin lips curling slightly, exuding an aura of supre aloofness that was unmistakable.

"Business is business, President ga.

No need for formalities."

Stephen caught the underlying aning in Sinclair’s words.

His inscrutable eyes narrowed briefly before returning to their usual calm.

"Since you’ve put it that way, I’ll have to give it so serious thought."

Sinclair’s dark eyes remained cool and detached, devoid of any emotion.

After briefly agreeing to a verbal collaboration, the two ended the call.

"President Luther," Ramsey ventured, skepticism lacing his tone.

"Stephen may be at odds with Antonio, but he’s still a mber of the ga family.

Can we really trust him to cooperate with us sincerely?"

Sinclair’s lips curved faintly.

"When it cos to dealing with the ga family, no one is more sincere than he is."

His voice was calm and asured, devoid of inflection, yet it carried an undeniable air of absolute control.

After finalizing all arrangents, Sinclair returned to the guest room.

Sinclair scrubbed himself over and over, ensuring not a trace of the acrid stench of blood and smoke remained before stepping back into the bedroom.

The mont the mattress dipped under his weight, Camilla seed to sense his presence and imdiately curled closer to him.

Under the dim glow of the nightlight, Sinclair gazed at Camilla for a long while, his eyes softening with quiet tenderness.

After a mont, he reached out and pulled her entirely into his embrace, gently kissing the top of her head before closing his eyes.

The sweet fragrance lingering at the tip of his nose brought an unexpected calm to Sinclair’s world.

The Luther Family estate, too, settled into silence.

Yet, the atmosphere in the Luther Family’s suburban villa on the outskirts of San Francisco was the complete opposite.

"What did you say?!"

Jonathan shot up from his seat, phone clutched in his hand, veins bulging along the back of his hand and neck.

"My dad is transferring control of the Luther Group to Camilla?!

Are you absolutely certain you heard that right?!" "One hundred percent sure," the man on the other end of the line sighed.

"The news ca from your father’s side this afternoon.

By now, it’s practically an open secret within the Luther Family.

The group is already preparing the paperwork for the share transfer."

The man paused before adding, "Mr. Jonathan, if anything were to happen to Sinclair or your dad, by all rights, the Luther Group should fall into your hands.

Handing it over to an outsider who just married into the family—what kind of nonsense is that?"

What kind of nonsense?

The sheer idiocy of it!

Jonathan’s chest heaved violently, his entire face darkening with barely suppressed fury.

After a long silence, he finally steadied his emotions and spoke.

"What are your thoughts?"

Clearly, it was ti to take a stand.

The man on the other end of the line fell silent, pondering for two full minutes before responding slowly."

Your dad really ssed up this ti.

As a mber of the Luther Family, I can’t just stand by and watch outsiders take control of what’s rightfully ours."

The Luther Family must not fall into soone else’s hands.

Those words had already made his stance clear.

A satisfied glint flickered in Jonathan’s cold, shadowed eyes.

"A wise man knows when to yield," he murmured, his low voice tinged with nasal arrogance.

"Jean, once this matter is settled, I’ll have too much on my plate.

The S City market will be yours to manage."

It was both bait and a promise.

On the other end of the line, Jean imdiately understood.

His voice brimd with excitent when he replied, "Uncle Jonathan, if you say the word, how could I possibly refuse?"

After years of lingering in the shadows of the Luther Family estate, never once being entrusted with real authority, he had grown weary.

In the Luther dynasty—where survival of the fittest was ruthlessly enforced—his branch of the family had been pushed further and further down.

They had no choice but to seek another path.

Grandpa’s announcent to transfer Sinclair’s shares to Camilla only confird what they already suspected: Sinclair was truly gone.

At this pivotal mont of upheaval, choosing the right side was everything.

This was their one chance to rise again.

"Get ready and wait for my signal."

After giving a few more instructions, Jonathan ended the call.

Jonathan then proceeded to reach out to other mbers of the Luther Family’s collateral branches.

The conversations were all more or less the sa.

Perhaps the news from the ancestral ho had been too shocking, because even those who had once been resolute now wavered again.

Once the calls were over, Jonathan’s lips curled into a cold, mocking smirk.

"Just a bunch of dogs that won’t wag their tails without a bone."

Standing beside him, a gaunt-faced man visibly relaxed.

"If they’re willing to help, our plan should go much smoother this ti."

"Let’s hope so."

Jonathan’s expression darkened as he thought about the old man’s recent maneuvers.

"The share transfer has to happen by the day after tomorrow at the latest. It’s ti we set our plan in motion."

Jonathan did feel a twinge of guilt toward his father—but there was no other way.

Jonathan’d make it up to him later.

Jonathan’s vacant gaze flickered with a trace of malice.

The night in the capital grew deeper, so thick with darkness that the path ahead was barely visible.

anwhile, at the Taylor Estate—

Taylor set down the docunts in his hand, his slender fingers pressing lightly against his temples.

His clear, composed voice carried a faint weariness.

"Is she still outside?"

The "she" in question was unmistakable to the butler.

"Yes," the butler replied, his expression helpless.

"I’ve tried persuading her several tis, but Miss Violet still refuses to leave."

Miss Violet’s stubbornness, it seed, hadn’t changed a bit.

Taylor’s fingers stilled briefly against his forehead before resuming their motion, his face betraying no reaction.

Uncertain of his master’s thoughts, the butler ventured cautiously, "It’s quite late already. Should I invite her inside?"

"No."

Taylor rose from his seat and strode toward the exit.

"Since she enjoys waiting, let her keep at it," he remarked, his dark, inscrutable eyes as calm and unfathomable as a still lake.

"Dinner is served."

"Right away, sir," the butler acknowledged with a nod, promptly instructing the kitchen staff to bring the prepared dishes to the dining room. With a resigned expression, he then made his way outside.

Violet stood at the gate, the late autumn chill sending faint tremors through her body.

Yet her posture remained rigidly upright.

Her delicate, refined face betrayed no emotion, as composed as ever.

"Miss Violet, Mr. Taylor has had a long day and has already retired for the evening," the butler said, his tone polite but firm.

"It’s difficult to hail a taxi here at night.

Allow to arrange a car to take you ho."