Rebirth Swapped Bride; Married to the Ruthless Cursed Billionaire
Chapter 138: Help me find Tamara, Mr. Jonathan Luther first love

Chapter 138: Help me find Tamara, Mr. Jonathan Luther first love

Camilla stopped Ramsey just as he was about to leave.

Her beautiful eyes narrowed slightly, a glint of determination flashing within them.

"There’s something I need you to do right now."

"Understood."

Ramsey gave a slight nod, standing at attention as he awaited her next words.

For the sake of Mr. Luther, he was willing to do anything.

"Find this woman named Tamara," Camilla retrieved a file from her bag and handed it to Ramsey.

"She’s currently job-hunting. Arrange for her to be placed in Jonathan’s company."

This was someone she had suddenly remembered that day at the Luther Family’s ancestral home.

Tamara was Jonathan’s first love during university—the kind of woman men idealize as their "first love."

In the previous life, she appeared a year later.

That woman was no pushover either. In no time, she had Jonathan and Margaret at each other’s throats.

Unfortunately for her, Jonathan ultimately outmaneuvered her.

By arranging for Tamara to be caught in bed with another man, Margaret had shattered Jonathan’s illusions and forced him back into the marriage.

A cold, mocking smile played on Camilla’s lips.

This time, she would rewrite Tamara’s fate.

Those who play with fire get burned. She would make sure Margaret fell from grace the same way she had climbed up—through deceit and betrayal.

"Yes," Ramsey took the documents and nodded, then voiced the concern weighing on him.

"But Madam, should we keep this from President Luther?"

The terrifying interrogation he’d endured under Sinclair’s pressure was not something he wanted to relive.

"No need."

Camilla’s red lips curved faintly as she replied with calm assurance.

Sinclair already knows.

Just proceed as planned."

This was precisely what she and Sinclair had discussed privately in the office earlier.

"Understood!"

Only then did Ramsey exhale fully in relief before driving off.

The Luther’s living room.

"Madam," Aunt Naomi hurried forward, pausing in surprise when she saw Camilla holding the little girl’s hand.

"And who might this young lady be?"

"She’s a little guest I invited to stay with us for a couple of days," Camilla didn’t elaborate further, her beautiful eyes swiftly scanning the living room.

"Where’s Fanny?"

"Miss Tiffany is resting in the guest room upstairs," Aunt Naomi replied gently.

"Would you like me to take you there?"

Fanny had been frightened earlier and needed proper rest.

Camilla shook her head.

"No need.

Let her sleep.

I have other matters to attend to first."

As she spoke, she knelt down in front of the little girl.

"Carie Ann, why don’t you go play in the park with Auntie Naomi for a while? I’ll come get you later."

The little girl glanced at Auntie Naomi, then nodded obediently.

"Good girl."

Camilla gently patted the child’s head before standing up and turning to Auntie Naomi.

"Auntie Naomi, could you arrange for someone to buy her a few sets of well-fitting clothes and shoes?"

"Of course," Auntie Naomi replied with a warm smile, bending down to the girl’s level.

"Come on, sweetheart, Granny Naomi will take you out to play."

With that, she scooped the child into her arms and headed outside.

The moment they left, the smile on Camilla’s face vanished completely.

She set down her bag and strode toward the basement.

As she faced the long corridor ahead, a mocking smirk curled at the corner of her lips.

This place had somehow become her second most frequented spot—right after her bedroom.

Luke and several mercenaries stood waiting outside a heavy iron door.

"Madam."

Camilla’s beautiful face was icy with fury. "Open it."

"Yes."

Luke immediately stepped forward and unlocked the heavy iron door.

Inside the dark, damp room, the air was thick with the putrid stench of blood.

Arlo lay curled in the corner, limbs bound, eyes and mouth covered, his entire body trembling with terror.

The last thing he remembered was the man who claimed Tiffany was his fiancée kicking him hard—then everything went black.

When he woke again, he was trapped in this nightmare.

He had no idea where he was, or how much time had passed.

The complete disorientation only deepened the fear gnawing at his gut.

Clang.

The sudden noise made Arlo flinch violently, his heart leaping into his throat.

"Bring him here."

The woman’s voice was cold, detached—and oddly familiar.

Before he could place it, rough hands seized him, dragging him forward into the unknown.

With a heavy thud, he was thrown to the ground once more.

The blindfold and gag were roughly torn away.

"Hiss—" The sudden glare of bright lights made Arlo squeeze his eyes shut in pain.

As his vision gradually adjusted, he saw an exquisitely beautiful woman sitting coldly on the sofa.

Her mesmerizing eyes, devoid of any warmth, locked onto him like ice.

"Camilla, it’s you again?!"

Arlo’s face twisted with fury as he glared at her, his anger boiling over.

"You crazy woman, what the hell do you want?!"

"That’s my line," Camilla replied, her voice chillingly calm yet laced with lethal frost.

"Who ordered you to kidnap Fanny?"

"K-Kidnap?

What are you talking about?"

A shiver ran down Arlo’s spine as he met her piercing gaze.

"I was just taking Fanny to the countryside for some fresh air—to help her relax, that’s all."

"You’d better tell me the truth," Camilla’s brows furrowed slightly as she spoke with deliberate calm.

"My patience is wearing thin."

The icy aura radiating from her made Arlo’s pupils constrict in an instant.

"I *am* telling the truth," he insisted, swallowing hard and raising his voice.

"If anything, if Fanny saw how terrifying you look right now, she’d regret ever being your friend!"

Clearly, Arlo believed Camilla had only dragged him here to scare him—to vent her anger for Tiffany.

She wouldn’t actually do anything to him.

A faint, humorless smirk curled Camilla’s crimson lips as she turned her striking eyes toward Luke.

"I heard you’re a decent shot?"

Arlo froze.

"Passable," Luke replied, immediately catching her drift. His wolf-like gaze locked onto Arlo with chilling intensity.

"At this distance, if you ask me to hit his upper eyelid, I wouldn’t even graze the lower one."

"Oh? I’d love to see that," Camilla said coolly, extending a slender, pale finger toward Arlo’s left ear.

Her voice was icy.

"Right here."

"Understood."

Luke swiftly drew his gun from his coat, loaded it with practice ease, and aimed directly at Arlo.

*Holy shit, are they actually serious?!*

Arlo’s breath hitched in terror, his pupils trembling violently.

His body locked up in sheer panic, frozen in place.

"Camilla, you’re insane—"

The rest of his words were drowned out by the deafening gunshot.

Arlo’s left ear was gone—only a mangled, bloody mess remained.

Blood streamed down his cheek in thick rivulets. "AAAAHHHH!!!"

The initial shock gave way to excruciating agony, wrenching a guttural scream from Arlo that echoed through the room.

"My ear... my ear hurts so bad...

HELP ME!!!"

Camilla leaned back on the sofa, her cold, beautiful eyes fixed on Arlo’s writhing form with detached indifference.

She watched as his screams turned hoarse, then faded into weak, pained whimpers.

"If you can’t understand words, then it’s useless to keep it.

Isn’t it better gone?" she murmured, her voice deceptively soft.

"Now... have you thought about how to answer my question?"