Rebirth Swapped Bride; Married to the Ruthless Cursed Billionaire
Chapter 280: I need the Antidote

Chapter 280: I need the Antidote

"Camilla—"

The dressing room maintained its understated luxury, the moment he stepped inside, an elegant and subtle fragrance greeted him.

His footsteps halted abruptly as his gaze landed on the vision before him.

Those already dark eyes deepened into unfathomable whirlpools.

Camilla stood before the mirror, frowning slightly as she struggled with the white lace halter-neck one-piece swimsuit she wore.

It hadn’t seemed obvious on the hanger, but now that it clung to her body, the problem was glaring.

Her luminous, porcelain skin nearly blended into the white lace.

Slender, toned legs, a waist so narrow it could be circled with one hand—

The kind of flawless figure usually seen only in America comics was now on full display, breathtakingly alluring.

Sinclair’s long, narrow eyes darkened, his gaze sharpening.

Four words surfaced in his mind: —A living, breathing temptation.

"Sweetheart," Camilla looked up, only then noticing the man behind her.

Her beautiful eyes flickered with surprise.

"When did you come in?"

Her fingers fumbled in surprise, and the ribbon tied behind her neck twisted into a stubborn knot.

"Sweetheart," Camilla sighed softly, withdrawing her hands as she turned to Sinclair with a pleading gaze.

"Help me undo it, please."

Even though he was her husband, wearing something like this still made her blush with shyness.

"No need to untie it."

Sinclair stepped closer, his tall frame looming behind her.

His slender fingers traced the knot but didn’t loosen it—instead, he tugged it slightly tighter.

"Camilla," his voice dropped to a murmur, warm breath brushing against the delicate curve of her neck.

"The entire resort is ours tonight."

"But Sweetheart—"

Before she could protest, he swept her effortlessly into his arms and carried her outside, lowering her gently into the steaming hot spring.

The soothing warmth made her eyes flutter shut in contentment.

Yet what truly took her breath away was the view—the sprawling nightscape of City N, bathed in the glow of countless lights, stretching endlessly below them.

This city, steeped in centuries of history, had now awakened under the shimmering embrace of dusk.

The dazzling lights stretched endlessly, like a celestial river cascading down to earth.

A gentle evening breeze swept through, carrying an indescribable tranquility and charm.

Unable to resist, she murmured softly,

"Calvin has good taste.

This really is a wonderful place."

"Camilla," Sinclair set down his wine glass and lifted his gaze to meet Camilla’s eyes.

"Don’t praise other men in front of me."

Camilla pressed her lips together, a faint smile tugging at them.

"I was just complimenting his taste."

"Any kind of praise is off-limits," Sinclair reached out, pulling her into his embrace, his voice low and husky.

"In your eyes, there should only be one man—me."

His dark, narrow eyes burned with an obsessive, domineering possessiveness.

"As for this mountain villa, from now on, it’s yours."

Anything Camilla loved, he would give her. If it’s his, he’d give it unconditionally.

If it’s not his, he’d stop at nothing to get it for her.

Camilla knew that when her husband said these words, there was no room for refusal.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her forehead against his.

"Thank you, darling."

Sinclair leaned against the edge of the hot spring, his dark, ink-like eyes glinting with quiet amusement as he gazed at her.

"How are you going to thank me?"

His striking face, glistening with droplets of water, exuded an irresistible allure.

"Like this."

Camilla pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

Sinclair, clearly craving more, let his dark eyes deepen with desire.

In one swift motion, he shifted their positions, pinning her between the stone wall of the spring and himself.

Tilting her chin up, he took control, turning her fleeting peck into a deep, lingering kiss.

Camilla closed her eyes, surrendering to the warmth of his affection.

But when the kiss ended, Sinclair’s expression abruptly darkened.

Damn it.

"sweetheart,"

Camilla immediately noticed the change in his expression.

Her delicate brows furrowed with concern as she asked anxiously, "What’s wrong?"

But before Sinclair could answer, she already sensed something was off.

His usually flawless, pale complexion had taken on a faint flush—whether from the hot spring or something else, she couldn’t tell.

How did this happen?

"Was it Calvin’s doing, or someone else?"

"If it were someone else, the Calvin Group might as well shut down for good," Sinclair replied, his voice hoarse.

"Wait here.

I’m going to give that brat a call."

So it really was Calvin.

Always stirring up trouble.

Camilla let out a quiet sigh of relief and nodded.

"Alright."

Sinclair rose from the hot spring and strode toward the changing room.

The thin fabric made certain things all too apparent.

His expression darkened further.

Inside the changing room, Sinclair pulled out his phone and dialed Calvin.

"Ring—"

"Ring—"

The call went unanswered until the line automatically disconnected.

Sinclair frowned.

For men like them, their personal phones were of utmost importance—always kept within reach, always expected to be answered.

Yet now, Calvin hasn’t picked up.

Was it guilt?

Or something else?

His eyes darkened as he redialed.

"Ring—"

"Ring—"

This time, the call was answered halfway through.

"Hello?"

A woman?

The hoarse female voice coming through the phone made Sinclair’s sharp eyebrows lift slightly.

And a strangely familiar voice at that.

Almost immediately, Calvin’s voice cut in.

Within seconds, the call disconnected abruptly.

Sinclair’s dark eyes deepened, though the corners of his lips curled into an almost imperceptible smirk.

Calvin immediately dialed Jey instead.

This time, the call connected instantly.

"President Luther, how may I assist you?"

The cautious deference in the voice was unmistakable.

Sinclair got straight to the point, his tone icy. "Give me the antidote."

No matter what, he refused to lose control and risk harming Camilla against her will.

The line went dead with a sudden dial tone. Sinclair’s eyebrow twitched, his expression instantly darkening to the extreme.

Did these people have a death wish?

The fury radiating from him intensified, and the air in the dressing room grew suffocatingly tense.

Fortunately, in the next second, Jey called back.

Sinclair’s strikingly handsome face was ice-cold.

"I—I’m sorry, President Luther," Jey stammered, his voice thick with panic..

"I was so startled that my hand slipped, and I accidentally hung up."

Jey swallowed hard, on the verge of tears.

"Really... you have to believe me..."

Jey knew all too well that even his own boss wouldn’t dare hang up on President Luther so casually.

This time, he had truly poked the tiger’s tail.

Sinclair: At that moment, he finally understood why Calvin was always so hell-bent on poaching people from him and Taylor.

"Shut up," His icy voice cut through Jey’s incessant explanations.

"Antidote."

"Th-there... there isn’t one."

Jey grew even more nervous.

Sinclair didn’t respond, but his breathing noticeably deepened.

Even through the phone, Jey could feel the terrifying pressure radiating from the other end.

"CEO Calvin only prepared tonic herbs to invigorate your blood and strengthen your body—it’s not poison," Jey stammered, on the verge of tears.

"S-so there’s no antidote."

Invigorate blood?

Strengthen the body?

Sinclair’s sharp, dark eyes narrowed dangerously.

Calvin, you’ve got some nerve.

Jey held his breath, straining to hear any sound from the other end of the line, terrified that Sinclair might unleash his fury on him.

CEO Calvin, why did you have to dump this ticking time bomb on me?!

Fortunately, after a brief silence, the call was disconnected from the other end.

Jey finally let out a long sigh of relief. When Sinclair emerged from the dressing room, he had already slipped into a dark, ink-colored bathrobe.

Yet despite the loose fabric, certain things remained unmistakably prominent.

Camilla approached him, deliberately averting her gaze from that area.

"What happened?"

Sinclair had been with her the whole time—she shouldn’t have been completely oblivious.

"Nothing serious," Sinclair replied, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly as his dark eyes grew even more unfathomable.

"You stay and soak a while longer. I’ll head back to the room to shower."

Of course, by "shower," he meant a cold one. Watching his retreating figure, a flicker of guilt surfaced in Camilla’s beautiful eyes.

Was she being a little too cruel?

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