Rebirth Swapped Bride; Married to the Ruthless Cursed Billionaire-Chapter 317: If I can’t stop you then I will be with you

"Mr. Luther,"

Grandma.Porter spoke cautiously, her voice trembling slightly as she met Sinclair’s stormy gaze.

"If we stop now, all our efforts will be for nothing."

Seeing the darkness in his eyes deepen, she quickly added, "Everything Mrs. Luther has endured so far... it would all be in vain."

Sinclair knew the process of transferring the poison worm all too well.

They were only halfway through.

The real agony was yet to come.

"I won’t repeat myself."

His voice was icy as he drew the gun from his coat, its cold metal glinting under the dim light.

For a few tense seconds, he aimed it at Iris before slowly shifting the barrel toward Micheal.

His lips curled into a chilling smile.

"If you don’t stop now, I’ll put a bullet through his skull."

Every person in this room had been brought here by Camilla. Harming any of them would break her heart.

So he’d use his own life instead.

Even if it meant death, he refused to let Camilla suffer.

Luke’s expression instantly turned panicked.

"President Luther—"

Luke barely got the words out before the man’s icy glance silenced him.

Frozen in place, he didn’t dare move another muscle.

Micheal’s eyes burned with manic excitement, his body writhing weakly.

*Kill him.

Just kill him, and it’ll all be over.*

Sinclair would still follow the plan—he’d die with him.

Everything would be perfect.

Iris and grandma Porter stiffened, their gazes flickering nervously toward Camilla.

Camilla watched Sinclair, his entire being radiating terrifying intensity.

Beneath her calm exterior, a steely resolve flashed in her eyes.

"Sweetheart."

She rose slowly, stepping directly in front of the gun he had raised, her voice soft but unwavering.

"If this is what you want to do... then shoot me instead."

Sinclair’s dark pupils contracted sharply, and he immediately jerked the gun away.

"Camilla, move."

"Even if you don’t kill Michael, his body won’t hold out much longer,"

Camilla shook her head gently, her luminous eyes fixed steadily on Sinclair’s stormy expression.

Her voice was soft as morning dew.

"If we don’t transfer the poison worm soon, you’ll be in danger too."

She took a step forward, her delicate hand closing over Sinclair’s, pressing the gun barrel firmly against her own chest.

"Then I wouldn’t be able to go on living either.

So rather than that... you might as well pull the trigger now.

Spare me the suffering."

Her tone carried its usual tenderness, yet beneath it lay an undercurrent of quiet despair.

"Camilla..."

Sinclair’s dark eyes flickered to the gun clutched in her grasp, his brows knitting slightly.

Sinclair didn’t dare apply the slightest pressure.

"Let’s go first."

His voice, usually so icy, had softened to a ragged whisper.

Camilla shook her head again, her gaze unwavering as she studied the storm in his obsidian eyes.

Her expression remained serene.

"Then promise me first—that you won’t interfere with the poison worm transfer."

The spacious room plunged into absolute silence.

The others barely dared to breathe as they watched the tense standoff between the two.

"Sweetheart..."

Camilla was the first to break the suffocating silence that had settled over the room.

"For your sake, I swear nothing will happen to me," she said, tightening her grip around Sinclair’s hand that held the gun.

Taking another step forward, she pressed the cold barrel directly against her own chest, right above her heart.

"I promise you.

Please, trust me."

Sinclair’s dark eyes deepened, his gaze locked onto her with an intensity that could pierce steel.

Every pair of eyes in the room was riveted on the two of them, the air thick with tension.

"...Fine."

After what felt like an eternity, Sinclair finally relented, his voice low and rough, carrying an unreadable weight.

"Now let’s go."

Camilla nodded, releasing his hand.

A sharp pain surged through her body, making her sway unsteadily on her feet.

Without hesitation, Sinclair tossed the gun aside to Luke and reached out, steadying her with one arm before pulling her tightly into his embrace.

Alright?

Sinclair was compromising for this woman again and again.

The light in Michael’s eyes dimmed visibly once more, as if snuffed out in an instant.

A bone-chilling coldness engulfed him, dragging him into an abyss of despair.

Both Iris and grandma. Porter—no, everyone present—let out an inward sigh of relief.

Luke took the gun and stepped aside, his heart pounding.

Others might not realize it, but after all these years by Mr. Luther’s side, he knew better than anyone.

Mr. Luther never changed his mind.

Let alone for someone else.

His wife was the first. And very likely, the last.

"Sweetheart..."

Camilla wrapped her arms around Sinclair’s neck, her voice soft and tender.

"Carry me over to that seat, will you?"

The reaction from the poison-inducing pill inside her grew increasingly violent.

If this continued, she wouldn’t even have the strength to remain standing.

Her delicate face, framed by the black suit jacket, looked even paler and more haggard.

"Alright."

Sinclair reached out and gathered Camilla into his arms, settling onto the sofa.

Suppressing the sharp ache in his chest, he took out a handkerchief and gently wiped the cold sweat from her forehead.

His movements were so tender, as though he were handling the most precious thing in the world to him.

And of course, she was.

Leaning against Sinclair’s chest, Camilla let him tend to her, her glistening eyes fixed on Iris and grandma Porter.

"Proceed."

"Yes."

Iris and grandma Porter nodded and resumed their work beside Micheal.

Micheal’s body had already been mostly ravaged, his blood long turned murky, holding no allure for the poison worms.

But the moment Camilla’s fresh blood surged into his veins, the dormant poison worm immediately sensed it.

It stirred with excitement, writhing and darting through Micheal’s body in search of the fresh blood.

Meanwhile, the original poison worm also became active, hunting for its counterpart to devour it.

The agony inflicted by the movements of the two poison worms was beyond description.

Micheal’s face contorted grotesquely, his bloodshot eyes bulging as if about to burst from their sockets.

His already torn mouth stretched open to its limit, yet no sound escaped—his throat had been sealed shut.

His entire visage was a nightmarish sight, like a demon clawing its way up from the depths of hell.

Sinclair watched with pitch-black eyes, the ruthless killing intent lurking in their depths enough to chill the blood.

Whether today’s plan succeeded or not, he would make sure Micheal suffered unimaginable torment, regretting the very moment he was born.

Camilla leaned against Sinclair’s chest, biting her lower lip in silence where his gaze couldn’t reach, enduring the escalating pain coursing through her body.

The seconds ticked by agonizingly slow.

For everyone in that room, time stretched into an unbearable eternity.

Meanwhile, back at the Luther Family ancestral home...

"Grandpa?"

Uncle Carlos had just finished overseeing the household affairs when he noticed the elderly man, who should have been resting by now, descending the stairs fully dressed.

"Why aren’t you asleep yet?"

"Something doesn’t sit right with me.

I can’t sleep," grandpa murmured, glancing at the clock with a weary sigh.

"Since you’re still up, come with me to check on Sinclair and the others."

Age had a way of shrinking the heart.

Once, the old man had boasted that he could hold all of the entire Luther Family, within his grasp.

Now, his world has narrowed to just the children at his feet.

Uncle Carlos knew grandpa’s temperament well—the person was pointless.

"Alright," he nodded.

"I’ll get the car ready."

The black Alphard glided smoothly away from the old Luther Family estate, its headlights cutting through the night as it made its way toward the Luther Manor.

Updated from fr𝒆ewebnov𝒆l.(c)om