Rebirth Swapped Bride; Married to the Ruthless Cursed Billionaire Chapter 525: The truth about Camilla’s identity

Did he not trust him?

Nolan wasn’t buying it.

With Sinclair’s thods, there was no way he wouldn’t have extracted every last detail after capturing him and the royal family’s people.

"Care for a smoke, President Luther?"

Nolan wasn’t in any rush to speak.

Instead, he picked up a cigarette from the table and glanced at Sinclair, his lips curling into a faint, composed smile as he spoke in a low voice.

"No need."

Sinclair’s long, pale fingers toyed unhurriedly with the ring on his hand, his handso features calm and indifferent.

"Go ahead, President Nolan."

Nolan nodded, placing a cigarette between his lips and lighting it.

Nolan took a deep drag, then slowly exhaled a cloud of smoke.

Only after a mont did he speak again.

"I called you here in good faith, President Luther.

There’s no need to keep testing ."

Amid the hazy swirl of smoke, the smile on Nolan’s lips took on a deeper, more ambiguous aning.

"When it cos to the matter of Mrs. Luther’s identity, my stance—or rather, the Nolan family’s stance—is completely at odds with the royal family’s."

Clearly, he had no intention of wasting ti with this stubborn man before him.

The identity of the "Madam"?

Ramsey’s keen senses imdiately latched onto the key phrase in Nolan’s words.

His lowered eyes sharpened in an instant, his breath growing almost imperceptibly shallow.

What exactly was Madam’s identity?

Was it connected to the E Kingdom’s royal family?!

Sinclair’s fingers, which had been idly toying with the ring on his hand, paused for a fraction of a second—so slight it was nearly undetectable—before resuming their casual motion.

"Is that so?"

The corners of his lips curled into a faint, almost indifferent smile. His dark, narrow eyes fixed on Nolan, glinting with an icy chill.

"I wonder, what exactly is the royal family’s stance on this matter? And what, pray tell, is Mr. Nolan’s personal position?

His words were deliberate, laced with a subtle but unmistakable skepticism, as though he were the one holding all the cards.

Nolan exhaled a slow stream of smoke, his handso yet inscrutable face betraying no surprise.

n of cunning minds were all the sa—he was no exception.

"The royal family’s stance?"

Nolan flicked the ash from his cigarette, his gaze still lowered.

"Aside from the ailing queen, no one wants Madam Luther to be officially recognized as the descendant of the forr crown prince."

Only then did he lift his eyes, continuing with asured calm.

"Yet I am the exact opposite."

The offspring of the forr crown prince?!

Those few words alone sent a shockwave through Ramsey’s heart.

His hands, hanging at his sides, clenched and unclenched silently as he struggled to steady his racing thoughts.

The Madam... is the descendant of that ill-fated Erian prince?!

Sinclair’s dark eyes lifted languidly to study Nolan, yet his strikingly handso face remained an unreadable mask.

This possibility hadn’t escaped his speculation before.

Only now, it had been confird. Within monts, Sinclair pieced everything together.

When he spoke again, his voice carried the sa detached calm.

"President Nolan intends to use this matter to break free from the royal family and the Aistons’ control?"

With surgical precision, his words laid bare Nolan’s ultimate objective.

So he knew everything after all.

At the ntion of Luna and the Aistons family, a shadow passed over Nolan’s classically beautiful yet brooding features.

"Correct. But this entire plan hinges on one condition—that Mrs. Luther is indeed the forr crown prince’s descendant."

Sinclair gave a slow, asured nod.

"There remains one more question requiring President Nolan’s clarification." Sinclair t Nolan’s gaze directly, his thin lips parting slightly.

"Camilla and I haven’t done anything yet.

How did you and the royal family find out?"

His voice was calm but laced with hidden aning.

Ramsey glanced at Nolan before lowering his eyes again. Boss Luther was really playing his cards close to the chest—every word carried layers of implication.

Hearing Sinclair’s words, Nolan’s brows furrowed montarily before relaxing into a knowing smile.

"I take it you haven’t t Princess Kiara yet?"

Sinclair remained silent, tacitly confirming the assumption.

Nolan turned to Karl, who imdiately understood the cue.

Karl walked to Nolan desk, retrieved a photograph of Princess Kiara, and handed it to Sinclair.

Sinclair took the photo, his dark eyes narrowing slightly as he examined it.

Ramsey also leaned in for a closer look.

The photo showed a woman in her early twenties with chestnut-brown hair and deep-set brown eyes.

Her features were striking—sharp and undeniably beautiful.

At first glance, Ramsey didn’t notice anything unusual.

But then Sinclair slowly raised his hand, covering the lower half of the woman’s face, leaving only her eyes and brows exposed.

Ramsey scrutinized the photo intently, his expression suddenly freezing.

There was an uncanny resemblance between this woman’s eyes and brows and those of Madam Luther!

No wonder.

Sinclair instantly pieced everything together and casually tossed the photo onto the table.

"So tomorrow’s banquet is a trap for Camilla?"

Though phrased as a question, his tone left no room for doubt.

"To be precise, their goal is to obtain a DNA sample from Madam Luther to confirm her identity," Nolan nodded, his dark eyes glinting with icy intensity.

"Knowing Luna as I do, once the truth is confird, she’ll ensure your wife never leaves that hotel alive."

Sinclair studied Nolan before speaking deliberately.

"What kind of cooperation did you have in mind, President Nolan?"

Nolan glanced sideways at Karl once more. Karl gave a silent nod and retrieved a transparent evidence bag from his coat, placing it on the table.

"This contains Princess Kiara’s hair," Nolan said, pushing the bag slowly toward Sinclair, his expression shadowed with grim resolve.

"We can anticipate the outco and prepare accordingly."

Sinclair gazed at the object before him, his dark eyes veiled like mist, yet the corners of his thin lips curled into a slow, deliberate smile.

Ramsey imdiately understood his boss’s intent and stepped forward to retrieve the bag.

Under Sinclair’s probing, Nolan revealed a rough account of the royal family’s movents over the years.

The forr crown prince’s accident had been sudden, and with no body recovered, the queen had refused to believe he was dead.

She had never ceased her search for him.

Princess Luna, too, had never given up hope. By chance, they discovered that the forr crown prince had indeed survived the accident.

The grown prince hadn’t perished but had been rescued by a San Francisco physician.

In San Francisco, he had started a family—taking a wife and fathering a daughter—though his mories were lost.

Upon learning this, the queen imdiately dispatched envoys to bring him ho.

But they arrived too late.

The forr crown prince and his wife had died in a car crash, leaving only their daughter, who had vanished without a trace.

The news struck the queen so deeply that she fell gravely ill, and her health never fully recovered.

The task of finding the forr crown prince’s sole surviving heir was entrusted to Princess Luna.