Rebirth Swapped Bride; Married to the Ruthless Cursed Billionaire Chapter 504: The Arrival of Sinclair and Camilla

Nolan.

Taylor’s eyes narrowed slightly, a glint of interest flickering in their depths.

The newly appointed head of the Nolan family—one of the three great dynasties—had taken the reins with an iron grip.

Under his leadership, the Nolan family had shed its forr mild deanor, adopting instead a bold and decisive approach.

In just a short ti, he had sent ripples of unease through the other two families.

In that regard, he sowhat resembled Sinclair.

But only sowhat.

Stephen shared the sa sentint.

Taylor swirled his glass absentmindedly, his expression unreadable.

All eyes turned toward the entrance as a tall, striking figure strode into the grand hall with effortless grace.

His impeccably tailored white suit accentuated his lean, commanding fra.

His features blended the refined contours of the East with the striking angles typical of E country—deep-set eyes, a chiseled nose—creating an arresting presence.

His face was exquisitely sculpted, with an androgynous beauty that defied gender.

Though he wore a smile, his piercingly cold gaze remained sharp enough to make others avert their eyes.

Every movent carried an effortless grace, radiating poise and elegance.

From her corner, lissa glanced at Nolan before sitting back down with a hint of disappointnt.

"I thought he’d be sothing special. Turns out he’s just... h."

Vicente smirked, pleased with her reaction, and lifted a bite of dessert to her lips.

lissa wasn’t just saying it to impress her boyfriend.

If it ca to beauty, this man couldn’t hold a candle to Calvin.

In terms of handsoness, Sinclair outshone him.

And when it ca to presence?

Her own brother had him beat.

Her eyes flicked to the man beside her, and she added silently: Oh, and one more thing.

His physique was nothing compared to Vicente’s.

But not everyone had grown up surrounded by ridiculously perfect n like lissa had.

To most, a man like Nolan flawless in every way—was still utterly irresistible.

"Sigh, why are all the good n already taken?"

"Tell about it."

"If President Nolan weren’t engaged, he’d have won throwing themselves at him left and right."

"Who knows about others, but I’d definitely go all out for President Nolan.

"Stop talking nonsense.

If Princess Kiara hears this, you’ll be in deep trouble."

Though the royal family no longer held the sa political power as before, their status remained untouchable.

Making life difficult for a family was still well within their ans—after all, plenty of people were eager to curry favor with them.

The woman who had spoken stiffened at the warning and imdiately fell silent.

Yet her eyes remained fixed on Nolan, utterly unable to look away.

Juliet studied Nolan from across the crowd, her gaze narrowing slightly.

If not for his royal engagent, her attention would have undoubtedly lingered on him.

After all, he was arguably the most eligible bachelor in the entire country.

Despite being twins, Queen’s taste in n couldn’t have been more different from her sister’s.

To her, Nolan was undeniably handso—but there was always sothing unsettling, sothing shadowed, lurking beneath that striking exterior.

Nolan swiftly scanned the crowd in the grand hall, his piercing gaze lingering montarily on a few select individuals.

Among them was Taylor.

With effortless composure, Taylor raised his glass in a subtle acknowledgnt.

Harrison shot a glance at Nolan, a cold sneer curling in his chest.

The two n were of similar age, both heirs to the three most powerful families, inevitably pitted against each other in constant comparison.

Yet, whether it was looks or cunning, this man always seed to outshine him.

It was precisely for this reason that the re sight of Nolan stirred a visceral disgust within him.

Still, appearances had to be maintained.

Harrison, accompanied by Juliet and the Orlando couple, made his way toward Nolan As he passed Taylor, his gaze faltered for the briefest instant.

With only ten minutes left before the charity gala officially began, Sinclair had yet to arrive. Clearly, he wasn’t going to make it.

Taylor observed Harrison’s expression with quiet amusent, his own deanor as composed and unruffled as ever, betraying not a hint of impatience.

If Sinclair said he’d co, he would co.

Harrison’s scheming would only end up backfiring on himself.

Amidst the lively chatter of the crowd, the clock struck eight.

The elegant music faded into silence as all eyes turned toward the entrance. Everyone knew the host, Earl of Aiston, had arrived.

Conversations and discussions ceased imdiately as guests fixed their gazes on the doorway.

At the end of the red carpet, two Rolls-Royce Phantoms ca to a stop one after the other.

Though puzzled by the presence of two cars, the dia had long since readied their caras, not wanting to miss a single mont of breaking news.

The butler waiting at the entrance promptly stepped forward and opened the rear door.

"My Lord—"

Bowing slightly, the butler held the door open, shielding the fra with his hand.

Reporters quickly adjusted their equipnt to the best angles, eagerly awaiting the appearance of the evening’s host—the Earl of Aiston.

A middle-aged man in a light gray tailored suit stepped out of the car, his figure slightly portly.

His features were still refined, though his golden hairline had retreated to a precarious edge—a common plight among middle-aged n in Country E.

*Click.*

*Click.*

The dia frenzy reached its peak as caras flashed incessantly at Aiston.

But in the next mont, all attention shifted.

From the driver’s seat of the Rolls-Royce behind, a refined and handso man stepped out, his expression deferential as he opened the rear door.

A long leg, clad in sleek black trousers, erged first.

Then, a man with distinctly East features appeared before the crowd.

Sharp, sword-like brows.

Narrow, piercing eyes.

Thin, perfectly sculpted lips. His beauty was almost criminal.

Impeccably tailored in a flawless black suit that hugged his tall, statuesque fra, he exuded an aura of aristocratic aloofness and the commanding presence of soone accustod to power—even more so than Nolan before him.

Instantly, the dia’s focus was stolen. Who was this?!

Anyone sharing the spotlight with Count Aiston as the grand finale was no ordinary figure.

As seasoned journalists, they prided themselves on recognizing most of the financial titans present today.

Yet this man—he didn’t match any of them.

Under the scrutiny of nurous dia caras, the man remained utterly composed.

With long strides, he walked toward the car door on the other side.

Every gaze in the crowd followed his movents.

Sinclair opened the door, carefully shielding the edge with his hand.

The sharp, chiseled lines of his profile seed to soften slightly under the glow of the lights.

From the back seat erged a woman clad in a form-fitting white cheongsam, adorned with a golden peony pattern that blood subtly from hem to collar.

The exquisite embroidery only heightened her breathtaking beauty.

At the high neckline, the traditional frog clasp was fastened with lustrous, top-grade pearls—classic and refined.

The cheongsam’s tailored silhouette accentuated her flawless waist-to-hip ratio, while her already porcelain-like skin seed to glow like polished jade under the lights.

Her chestnut-brown curls cascaded to her waist, loosely pinned back with a jade hairpin.

The look was both tenderly enchanting and coolly elegant—two distinct yet harmonious facets of Eastern beauty embodied effortlessly in her.

With a faint curve of her crimson lips, Camilla looped her arm through her husband’s.

Together, they strode toward Earl Aston.

One dressed in black, the other in white—one exuding an air of aloof indifference, the other a quiet, icy elegance.

Their presence, both in aura and appearance, was a perfect match, as if their combined magnetism created an invisible barrier that kept the rest of the world at a distance.

Nearby, the dia, snapping out of their montary daze, imdiately raised their caras and began frantically clicking the shutters.

Beautiful things captivate everyone—and beautiful people are no exception.

Easton’s gaze involuntarily lingered on Camilla’s face, his brow furrowing slightly.

From the very first mont he laid eyes on this woman, an inexplicable sense of familiarity had stirred within him.

Yet he knew—if he had truly t soone like her before, he would never have forgotten.

That left only one plausible explanation.

—Beautiful people simply share certain resemblances.

Sinclair observed Easton’s subtle shift in expression, his dark eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

Quickly composing himself, Count Easton smiled and gestured graciously toward the couple.

"Mr. Luther, Mrs. Luther, please, co inside."