Chapter 155: Karma

Margaret’s words had clearly struck a nerve.

Tyler’s expression darkened instantly.

He had always been aware of Sinclair’s ruthless methods, but he hadn’t expected that woman, Camilla, would prove just as formidable.

Not only had his plan to use her against Sinclair failed, but he now had another adversary he couldn’t afford to underestimate.

Whether he could handle them both—truth be told, he wasn’t entirely confident.

"So, it’s better to follow my suggestion," Margaret said, her sharp eyes taking in every flicker of Tyler’s hesitation.

A knowing chill settled over her face.

"We must first throw them into disarray.

Only then will we find an opening to strike."

Tyler mulled it over for a moment before nodding.

"Understood."

"Contact—" Margaret nodded, about to elaborate further, when the sudden ring of her phone cut her off.

Recognizing the number, she answered immediately.

The man’s revelation made Margaret’s face pale dramatically.

So it really was because of a woman?! ——

Luther Family Mansion.

After dinner, Sinclair took Ramsey to the study again.

They worked straight through until midnight. Sinclair glanced at the time, his brow furrowing.

Had it gotten this late without him noticing?

Ramsey could guess what his boss was thinking and fought the urge to cry, his lips twitching in exhaustion.

As he stood up, he stretched his stiff, aching limbs.

The boss might be made of steel, but he certainly wasn’t.

Once they got back to the main house, he was definitely complaining to the old master!

"Stay here tonight.

We’ll head straight to the suburbs tomorrow morning."

Sinclair’s dark eyes swept over Ramsey indifferently before he strode out of the study.

That single sentence froze Ramsey in place. What to do?

What should I do?!

CEO Luther was clearly determined not to let him get any sleep tonight!!

Why was it so damn hard to keep a simple secret?!

Sinclair had originally planned to sleep in the guest room to avoid disturbing Camilla’s rest.

But when he noticed the slightly ajar door of the master bedroom, his footsteps stilled.

The thought of someone waiting for him inside made the corners of his lips curve upward, his handsome face softening with tenderness.

He pushed the door open and stepped in.

Camilla’s slender figure was curled up on the bed.

Even though Sinclair had tread lightly, she stirred awake almost immediately.

"Sweetheart, you’re back."

Her sweet voice was slightly husky, carrying an irresistible drowsy charm.

"Yeah, I lost track of time.

Won’t be this late again," he murmured.

He reached out to caress her flushed cheek but hesitated when he remembered how cold his palm must be from the night air.

Instead, he leaned down and pressed a featherlight kiss to her forehead.

"I’ll take a quick shower and be right back.

Go back to sleep, sweetheart."

Camilla nodded slightly.

A deeper smile curved Sinclair’s lips as he loosened his tie with one hand and headed toward the bathroom.

For some reason, she couldn’t shake the feeling that the sweetheart already knew something—or at least suspected it.

Wide awake now, Camilla stared blankly in the direction of the bathroom.

If she had a choice, she would never keep secrets from sweetheart.

But what else could she do?

She knew him too well—knew how much he despised being manipulated, especially by someone like Micheal.

If he ever found out about the life-bound curse, she couldn’t even begin to guess what he might do.

Her beautiful eyes darkened with worry.

All they wanted was to live happily together.

Why did someone always have to ruin it?

Just then, the bathroom door swung open.

Sinclair stepped out, a towel slung carelessly around his waist.

His jet-black hair was still slightly damp and tousled, framing his striking features in a way that was undeniably alluring.

Yes, alluring.

The sorrow that had just taken root in Camilla’s heart instantly dissolved.

What could dispel her worries?

Only this breathtaking sight before her.

"Camilla?"

Sinclair paused in drying his hair, lifting his gaze to meet Camilla’s.

Caught like a child with her hand in the cookie jar, Camilla instinctively squeezed her eyes shut.

But realization struck the next second—this was her own husband she’d been admiring.

What was there to be embarrassed about?

Though reopening her eyes now would practically be admitting guilt.

Noticing the faint tremble of her thick lashes, Sinclair’s dark eyes narrowed slightly, the curve of his lips deepening with amusement.

Several minutes later.

The mattress dipped as Sinclair slid beneath the sheets, his cool, masculine scent enveloping them.

One powerful arm encircled Camilla’s slender waist, drawing her flush against him.

Enveloped in the solid warmth of his sculpted frame, Camilla felt utterly safe.

A secret smile played at the corners of her mouth.

If only every night could be like this—wrapped in a sweetheart’s embrace forever.

Soon, the steady rhythm of breathing above told her he’d drifted into sleep.

She slowly opened her eyes.

In the dim glow of the nightlight, she studied the man’s face, half-hidden in the shadows.

Though he was asleep, traces of exhaustion lingered faintly between his brows.

A pang of tenderness welled up in Camilla’s heart.

Her sweetheart carried the heavy burden of the Luther Family on his shoulders—it was truly too much.

Holding her breath, she leaned in and pressed a featherlight kiss to his lips.

Just as she was about to pull away, a large, well-defined hand cradled the back of her head, deepening the kiss.

The warmth of his breath was a stark contrast to the coolness of his lips.

Camilla’s eyes widened in surprise.

Was sweetheart awake, or had he never been asleep? The kiss grew more fervent, consuming her until her thoughts scattered, leaving only a blank, burning haze.

The space between them filled with scorching affection, leaving no room for anything else.

The room melted into a dreamy warmth.

The same night.

Unlike the warmth of the Luther Family estate, the atmosphere in their suburban villa was icy cold.

"Margaret," Jonathan loosened his tie with a frustrated tug, his voice low and tense.

"I was at a business dinner—I didn’t have time to check my phone.

You saw the messages yourself, didn’t you?"

"Oh, I saw them alright," Margaret replied, her voice trembling with hurt.

"I saw that my husband was too busy to answer my calls, but somehow had plenty of time to drink on behalf of another woman."

The scene was burned into her memory—every second of it.

And that woman... A cold glint flickered in Margaret’s eyes. She wasn’t some young, naive girl.

No, she was an elegant, refined woman, barely a few years younger than Jonathan.

Which made the whole thing even more unsettling.

"I already told you—she’s a key hire for the company," Jonathan snapped, his brows furrowing in irritation.

"I’m exhausted from entertaining clients all night.

Can we not do this right now?"

"Me being unreasonable?!"

Tears welled up in Margaret’s eyes.

"Jonathan, have you forgotten what day it is today?

I’ve been waiting for you at home all day."

"What day?"

Jonathan lowered his gaze, answering absentmindedly.

"Our anniversary?

I thought we just celebrated it not long ago?"

He pressed his fingers to his temples.

"Never mind.

Whatever day it is, I’ll make it up to you with a gift tomorrow.

I have a headache right now—I’m going to shower and rest."

As he spoke, Jonathan staggered unsteadily toward the stairs.

"Jonathan!!"

Margaret clenched her fists, her entire body trembling with rage as she watched the man walk away.

How could he suddenly become like this?!

Clearly, Jonathan had forgotten.

Over twenty years ago, she had once driven another innocent woman to the exact same breaking point.

What goes around comes around.

Karma never misses its mark.

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