Rebirth Swapped Bride; Married to the Ruthless Cursed Billionaire
Chapter 159: New formula

Chapter 159: New formula

The frost in his aristocratic features was bone-chilling.

"Speak.

What did you do to me?"

In those words, Ramsey’s entire body tensed to the breaking point, every hair on his neck standing on end.

Micheal gritted his teeth against the searing pain coursing through him, his gaze locked onto Sinclair’s face.

If he was already prepared to die, there was no harm in revealing the truth about the life-bound curse.

But before that—he had to drive a knife straight into Sinclair’s heart.

"Camilla knew all along.

Didn’t she tell you?"

With great effort, Micheal twisted his lips into a grotesque, venomous smirk.

"Sinclair, seems like she doesn’t even trust you completely.

Hahaha—" Outside the Luther Corporation headquarters, a sleek silver Rolls-Royce Phantom pulled to a smooth stop.

Camilla stepped out of the car and walked inside.

The receptionist, having been specially briefed by Ramsey, immediately recognized Camilla and stepped forward to greet her.

"Madam."

Camilla gave a slight nod, her voice soft and warm.

"Is President Luther available right now?

Would it be a bother if I went up?"

The receptionist’s smile faltered for a moment, a flicker of surprise crossing her eyes.

"My apologies, Madam, but the President isn’t in the office today."

"Not in the office?"

Camilla was taken aback.

She distinctly remembered Sinclair saying he was heading to the company when he left.

"That’s correct," the receptionist replied with a polite smile.

"Assistant Ramsey isn’t here either.

He must have accompanied the President to handle matters elsewhere."

"I see.

Thank you."

Camilla turned and walked away.

It seemed Sweetheart had been called away for urgent business.

Her trip had been for nothing.

Watching Camilla’s retreating figure, the receptionist furrowed her brows in confusion.

"Could the madam be here for a surprise inspection?"

After a moment’s hesitation, she pulled out her phone and dialed Ramsey’s number.

"Madam?"

The driver looked at Camilla in surprise. "You’re back so soon?"

"Sinclair isn’t here," Camilla replied, her voice tinged with disappointment.

"Let’s head straight to the outskirts."

The poison she had administered to Micheal should have taken effect by now—this was the perfect time to test the antidote.

"Right away!"

The driver immediately started the car and sped toward the villa on the outskirts.

In the basement.

"Damn beast!"

At this point, he still has the nerve to drive a wedge between President Luther and his wife?!

Ramsey clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white, itching to tear Micheal’s mouth apart right then and there.

Sinclair continued smoking leisurely, his expression indifferent as he regarded Micheal with cool detachment.

"Whether Camilla knows or not, whether she chooses to speak or remain silent—that’s entirely her prerogative," he said, the corner of his lips curling into a slow, deliberate smirk.

His voice was measured yet carried an undeniable authority.

"I love her.

As long as she doesn’t leave, she can do anything—even kill me."

Even kill him, as long as she stays?!

Though spoken softly, the words struck Micheal like shards of glass.

His jaw tightened until his teeth ached.

"Sinclair, what’s so special about this woman?

How could she reduce you to this?

This isn’t you!"

Just then, an abrupt buzzing sound cut through the tension.

Ramsey frowned and immediately pulled out his phone.

"President Luther, it’s the company."

"Answer it."

Sinclair’s dark eyes were like frozen abysses—impenetrable and fathomless.

Ramsey nodded and pressed the answer button.

"Assistant Ramsey, the madam just came to the company looking for the CEO," The receptionist’s sugary voice floated through the phone line.

"I told her both you and the CEO were out, so she left."

"Got it."

Ramsey hung up and turned to Sinclair. Micheal’s expression was venomous.

"I need to get back to Camilla before she starts worrying," Sinclair crushed his cigarette butt forcefully against the table, then idly twirled the military dagger beside him, his cold gaze fixed on Micheal.

"Last chance—what did you do to me?"

His movements were refined, almost elegant, a sight to behold.

But to Micheal, they radiated nothing but ruthless menace.

"I—" Before he could speak, that familiar, searing pain surged through him again.

His eyes bulged as blood gushed from his mouth. Within seconds, he collapsed into unconsciousness.

Sinclair’s brows knitted tightly as he fixed his piercing gaze on Micheal.

An icy aura radiated from him, chilling the air until it seemed to freeze solid.

"President Luther," one of the mercenaries nearby stepped forward, swallowing hard before explaining in a low voice, "Madam had previously ordered us to administer poison to this man.

The effects come and go unpredictably."

"His current state... must be another episode."

Holy shit, talk about perfect timing! Madam, you absolute legend!

Ramsey couldn’t help but feel both astonished and inexplicably relieved.

Just then, the sharp click of high heels echoed through the room.

Madam is here?!

Ramsey finally let out a sigh of relief.

With the madam present, even if the sky were to fall, someone would be there to hold it up for President Luther.

Of course, he only dared to think that in his heart.

"Madam—" The mercenary nodded and opened the door.

Camilla stepped inside, her gaze briefly flickering toward the unconscious Micheal before moving on.

Her beige outfit and delicate beauty stood in stark contrast to the damp, gloomy basement.

Sinclair paused his actions and looked up.

The bone-chilling coldness in his eyes receded, and the terrifying aura around him gradually dissipated.

"Sweetheart"

Camilla glanced at Ramsey briefly before turning her attention back to Sinclair, her voice soft.

"I went to the company looking for you earlier."

As she spoke, she settled beside him, pulling his arm around her waist and leaning into his embrace.

"Shall we continue?

Let’s do this together.

Ramsey, wake him up."

"...Yes," Ramsey was just about to move when— "No need."

Sinclair’s slender fingers traced the curve of Micheal’s waist as his lips curled into a slow, deliberate smirk.

"Everything we wanted to know... has already been answered."

With that, he wrapped an arm around Camilla and helped her up, his dark, fathomless eyes lingering on her delicate features.

"Let’s go."

"Okay."

A sharp twinge shot through her lower back, making Camilla wince for the briefest moment before her expression smoothed back into a serene, sweet smile.

"But wait—just a second."

She rummaged through her bag and pulled out a small vial, handing it to the nearest mercenary.

"This is a new formula.

Force it down Micheal’s throat in half an hour."

Sinclair watched impassively, his face unreadable.

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