Rebirth Swapped Bride; Married to the Ruthless Cursed Billionaire
Chapter 133: You Know Camilla too?

Chapter 133: You Know Camilla too?

"Screech—"

The sound of tires grinding against asphalt pierced the air as three sleek black Tank 500 SUVs came to a halt, forming a tight perimeter.

A dozen towering men with icy expressions stepped out, their presence radiating tension.

The driver stiffened, his eyes sharp with wariness.

Were these the people behind Arlo’s abduction attempt?

Tiffany’s breath hitched, her fingers curling nervously.

"Don’t worry.

You’re safe."

Calvin slid one hand casually into his trouser pocket, positioning himself squarely in front of Tiffany as he leveled a cool, assessing gaze at the newcomers.

His tall, broad-shouldered frame cast a protective shadow over her, wrapping her in an unspoken sense of security. Her heart swelled with gratitude.

This man—Calvin—was truly a good person!

Of course, Calvin remained blissfully unaware that he’d just been handed the ultimate "good guy" card.

"Who are you?"

His voice was deceptively lazy, but the undercurrent of steel in his tone sent a clear warning as his dark eyes locked onto Luke and the others.

In the capital, only a handful of people had the power and audacity to challenge him.

And most of those were his own allies.

"President Calvin," Luke gave a slight nod toward Calvin.

"We’re here for Miss Tiffany."

He knows me? Calvin’s long, narrow peach-blossom eyes narrowed slightly.

So they really are here for her!

Tense and distracted, Tiffany didn’t catch Luke’s form of address. Her face paled slightly.

No—I can’t drag these two into this!

She glanced at Calvin and the driver, clenched her fists, and stepped forward.

"I’ll go with you!"

Limping with effort, Tiffany emerged from behind Calvin, her eyes blazing with fury as she glared at Luke.

"These two are just passersby.

They have nothing to do with this—leave them out of it."

Her voice trembled faintly, but her tone was resolute.

Calvin gazed at the petite figure standing before him, his handsome face curling into an enigmatic smile.

Luke’s expression flickered with a trace of awkwardness.

Did he really look that much like a villain?

"You’ve got it all wrong, Miss Tiffany," Luke said, softening his tone as he explained.

"We were sent by the Madam to protect you."

"The Madam?"

Tiffany blinked in momentary confusion before realization dawned, her bright eyes lighting up.

"You’re Camilla’s people?!"

"Exactly."

Luke gave a firm nod.

"Madam had us keeping a discreet watch around the hospital to ensure your safety.

When we noticed this man taking you away, we followed."

He paused briefly before continuing, "Our plan was to wait until he reached his destination before making a move—to uncover whoever was behind this.

But then..." Tiffany understood.

She never expected to wake up midway.

The corners of her lips twitched as her face crumpled with helpless despair.

Perhaps it would’ve been better to stay unconscious—sparing herself this pointless torment.

"Madam?"

"Camilla?"

"You’re from the Luther Family?"

Calvin caught the key detail in their words. His gaze, cold and detached, flickered briefly toward Tiffany before settling on Luke.

His voice was calm, almost indifferent.

"Or should I say... you’re Camilla’s people?"

Technically, there was a distinction between Camilla’s inner circle and the broader Luther Family.

"Yes."

Luke gave a slight nod.

Given the close ties between CEO Calvin and CEO Luther, their circles naturally overlapped.

As for why Calvin didn’t recognize him—well, that was understandable.

Tiffany’s beautiful eyes widened in shock as she stared at Calvin.

"You... know Camilla?"

No way, what are the odds?

"We do know each other," Calvin studied Tiffany’s utterly shocked expression, the corners of his lips curling into an even deeper smirk.

"San Francisco really is a small world, isn’t it?"

Meanwhile.

"What?

" Camilla abruptly sat up from Sinclair’s embrace, her clear eyes widening in disbelief.

"Calvin?"

First, he was the one who hit Fany, and now Fany grabbed her steering wheel and crashed into him—both times, it was Calvin?

This is way too much of a coincidence!

Getting this worked up over another man’s name while in his arms?

Sinclair’s dark eyes narrowed slightly as his long, well-defined fingers pressed against Camilla’s slightly parted lips, his gaze inscrutable.

"I got it, Fany," Camilla grabbed Sinclair’s restless hand and continued,

"We’ll talk about the rest when you get back."

Her voice was incredibly gentle.

"Don’t worry, nothing will go wrong again." The call ended.

"Sweetheart!!"

Camilla turned to Sinclair with sparkling eyes.

"Do you know what just happened?!"

"Do Calvin and Tiffany know each other?"

Sinclair’s gaze lingered on Camilla’s lips as he replied coolly.

"Or did something happen between them?"

"Huh?"

Camilla blinked in surprise.

"How did you know?!"

She was sure she hadn’t mentioned anything during the call just now.

"You sounded way too excited when you said Calvin’s name."

Sinclair lifted his eyes, a knowing smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

"It’s impossible not to notice."

At that moment, Calvin in the conference room suddenly felt his ears growing increasingly warm.

His brow arched slightly as he cast an inscrutable glance at the managers before him.

Was someone secretly cursing him in their mind? Good.

"The meeting is extended by forty minutes."

Calvin Corporation managers stiffened, swallowing their undeserved misfortune with bitter resignation.

She called Calvin by name?

Camilla froze momentarily before belatedly realizing her slip.

"Sweetheart, I was just excited about the coincidence in this matter, not about Calvin—"

"Whatever the reason," Sinclair abruptly rose and swept Camilla onto the sofa, her back sinking into plush cushions.

"Camilla," his voice dropped to a possessive murmur as he caged her in his arms, "when you’re excited, my name should be the only one on your lips."

He descended in a kiss far more savage than usual, his ruthless lips claiming her breath with primal intensity.

Camilla’s scalp tingled as an involuntary whimper escaped her lips.

Her crystal-clear eyes glistened with unshed tears, misting over like morning dew.

"Sweetheart..."

Her voice trembled, barely above a whisper. Sinclair’s body tensed slightly.

His narrow, obsidian-dark eyes clouded over, turbulent emotions swirling beneath the surface like a gathering storm.

Just as he leaned in closer, intent on deepening their moment, three sharp knocks shattered the silence.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

The sound repeated—insistent, intrusive—piercing through the thick tension between them.

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