Rebirth Swapped Bride; Married to the Ruthless Cursed Billionaire-Chapter 314: Michael is in Agony

In the master bedroom of the Luther Manor, a strikingly handsome man lay on the bed, his brows tightly furrowed.

His long, thick lashes cast delicate shadows beneath his eyes.

Upon closer inspection, one could see his breathing growing heavier, his hands at his sides clenching slightly.

Sinclair seemed trapped in the throes of a nightmare.

In the dream, Sinclair walked through an endless stretch of darkness, surrounded by a suffocating stench of decay.

With no other choice, he pressed forward until, at last, he reached a familiar door—the very one to the room he now slept in.

Without hesitation, he pushed it open.

Inside, everything was just as he remembered.

Camilla lay peacefully on the bed, dressed in a flowing white gown.

"Camilla?"

The silence sent a sharp pang through his chest.

Sinclair strode toward her immediately.

Her chestnut curls cascaded like a waterfall over the pillow, her face as lovely as ever.

But the brutal ligature marks around her neck and the stillness of her chest made it painfully clear—she wasn’t asleep.

Camilla.

Sinclair’s heart shattered as if struck by a brutal force, the pain so overwhelming that he staggered back, dazed.

The agony felt so real that, for a moment, he completely forgot he was trapped in a dream.

Trembling, he reached out to touch Camilla’s face—only for his fingers to pass right through her.

Sinclair tried again, but the same thing happened.

What the hell was going on?!

A surge of sheer terror made his tall, imposing frame sway unsteadily.

Just then, the door behind him creaked open once more.

The moment Sinclair turned, his dark pupils constricted into fathomless voids.

—Another Sinclair stood there, clutching a bundle of white roses, his steps heavy as he trudged forward.

His hands were torn and bleeding from the thorns, yet he seemed utterly numb to the pain.

"Camilla, you always loved these flowers, didn’t you?"

His voice was low, rough with emotion as he piled the roses around Camilla’s still form.

His gaze burned with madness so deep it bordered on devotion. fгeewёbnoѵel_cσm

"Don’t be afraid of where you are.

I’ll bring them to you soon."

The words dripped with an obsession so fierce it bordered on delirium. Sinclair understood all too well.

This was him, yet not him.

His pitch-black eyes bore into the scene before him, as if a terrifying storm of razor-sharp blades swirled around his body.

The images flashed before his eyes like scenes from a fast-forwarding film.

Sinclair watched as the "other him" washed the blood from his body and lay down beside Camilla.

Sinclair watched as Ramsey led people in, only to leave again.

Sinclair watched as "he" set the entire room ablaze with a single strike of a match.

Sinclair watched the entire Luther Family estate being devoured by towering flames. ...

"Camilla!!"

The moment the fire burned out, Sinclair’s eyes snapped open.

The space beside him was empty—the room held only him now.

The excruciating pain in his chest remained vivid, unrelenting.

His face was deathly pale as he pushed himself up and staggered toward the door.

Sinclair had to see Camilla—immediately.

In the medical room.

The Golden Silkworm poison could be considered the king of all poisons, capable of neutralizing most poisonous toxins and suppressing the majority of poison insects.

But "most" doesn’t mean all.

The Life-Linked poison was a special exception.

It wasn’t that its venom was particularly potent, but rather that its nature was uniquely troublesome.

Brute force wouldn’t work—only a roundabout approach could succeed.

At that moment, under the guidance of Iris’s flute melody, the Golden Silkworm poison slithered through the man’s body.

"Buzzzz—"

Under the haunting melody of Iris’s flute, the Golden Silkworm poison wormed its way through the man’s body.

From the outside, one could even trace its path beneath his skin.

Pain—excruciating, unbearable pain.

His veins bulged across his entire body, his tightly clenched eyes bloodshot.

It felt as though countless razor-sharp blades were churning violently inside him, shredding his insides.

The agony was so intense that his organs seemed to twist into knots.

Michael writhed desperately, his body convulsing in a futile attempt to escape the torment.

Iris watched his struggles, her beautiful eyes glinting with icy ruthlessness.

The flute’s melody grew sharper, more urgent—and the Golden Silkworm poison writhed faster in response.

"Agh—!"

A guttural scream tore from the man’s throat.

His once sallow complexion had turned ashen, the pallor of a man on death’s doorstep.

Beside him, Micheal’s face was equally grim.

The poison worms inside him stirred restlessly, as though agitated by the woman’s eerie flute song.

What unsettled him even more was his own creeping dread.

Could this woman truly break the Life-Linked poison?

If she could, all his carefully laid plans would crumble to dust.

What now?

Micheal’s sunken eyes darted restlessly, the despair in them impossible to hide.

Michael should have killed himself from the start—dragged Sinclair down with him.

Meanwhile...

As the agony in his body intensified, the man’s sanity began to fracture completely.

Michael knew all too well that if this continued, he’d soon become little more than a walking corpse.

"Saintess... spare me..."

The man’s lips, now a sickly shade of purple, trembled as he slurred the words, barely coherent.

"The Life-Linked poison.

I’ll surrender the original poison myself... I’ll give it up..."

Iris stopped playing her flute, her cold gaze boring into him as her crimson lips parted.

"You should have known the consequences the moment you sent your men after Carrie Ann."

With that, she moved again—this time summoning her own life-bound poison.

The jade-white spider swiftly crawled onto his face and burrowed straight into his eyeball.

Blood splattered everywhere.

"Ahhh—"

A guttural scream of agony tore from the man’s throat, his remaining pupil dilating so wide it nearly bulged out of its socket.

Iris and Grandma Porter watched coldly, unmoved.

Luke frowned.

This delicate-looking girl appeared sweet and innocent, yet she showed no mercy in her methods.

The few doctors present were already trembling in terror.

Soon, the jade-white spider crawled out from the man’s mouth, its pristine body completely untainted by blood.

By now, the man had lost the ability to make any sound.

Were it not for his faint, ragged breathing, he might as well have been a corpse.

"Young Mistress," grandma Porter suddenly spoke up.

"The Golden Silkworm poison has stopped moving.

It must have located the source parasite."

"Mm."

Iris nodded and recalled her lifebound poison insect. "Go prepare for the next step."

"Yes, ma’am!"

Grandma Porter moved aside and began fiddling with something.

Meanwhile, in another room.

Camilla observed the commotion outside with sharp eyes.

Having lost too much of her vital blood, her face was unnaturally pale.

"Dr. Caleb," she said softly, her gaze fixed on the surveillance screen.

"Speed it up even more."

Dr. Caleb frowned deeply at the already accelerated transfusion line.

"But Madam, any faster and your body won’t be able to handle it."

"It’s fine,"

Camilla replied calmly, her crimson lips parting slightly as she met his gaze.

"Do as I say."

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