Rebirth Swapped Bride; Married to the Ruthless Cursed Billionaire-Chapter 333: Misunderstanding

"Not going back to sleep?"

Tiffany froze completely, turning her head mechanically toward the source of the voice.

There stood a man in a loosely buttoned gray shirt, the top two buttons undone, revealing sharp collarbones and a prominent Adam’s apple.

His slightly upturned eyes gleamed like clear pools—indescribably captivating.

His face was so flawlessly handsome it bordered on sinful.

Who else could it be but Calvin?

Tiffany’s beautiful eyes flickered with shock, her body rooted to the spot.

"What’s wrong?"

Calvin’s lips curved into a faint smirk, his voice lazy yet dripping with undisguised affection.

"Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten me,

Fanny?"

Only then did Tiffany snap out of her daze, scrambling upright on the bed in a fluster.

"When did you get back?

H-how did you end up here?"

She distinctly remembered falling asleep on the couch.

When did Calvin come upstairs?

How had she not noticed at all?

No, that’s not right.

Tiffany swallowed hard.

The real question was—why was Calvin here?

Calvin took in Tiffany’s flustered expression, a low chuckle escaping his throat.

When she finally met his gaze, he smirked and briefly recounted what had happened that morning.

Of course, he conveniently left out the part where he had stolen a kiss.

Tiffany, naturally, believed him—her face instantly flushed the crimson.

Did Calvin think she had thrown herself at him on purpose?

"I get really disoriented when I’m half-asleep," she stammered.

"It wasn’t intentional.

I hope you don’t mind."

Mind?

Well, in a way, she wasn’t wrong.

Calvin narrowed his eyes, watching her with an amused glint as she fidgeted nervously.

But what bothered him wasn’t the so-called "throwing herself at him"—it was those four words she had used: *not intentional.*

If anything, he wished it *had* been.

Seeing Calvin remain silent, Tiffany opened her mouth again, desperate to explain further.

But suddenly, she realized she was still nestled in Calvin’s embrace and hurriedly threw off the covers to sit up.

"Sorry—"

Having slept for too long, Tiffany’s legs gave out the moment she stood abruptly.

Her ankle twisted, sending her stumbling sideways.

A startled gasp escaped her lips, cutting off her apology mid-word—leaving only a breathless "sor—" hanging in the air.

True to form, Calvin didn’t disappoint. In the split second before she could fall, his reflexes kicked in, and he swiftly pulled her back into his arms.

That sweet, warm fragrance enveloped her once again.

This time, he had no intention of letting go.

Their eyes locked, faces mere inches apart.

The air between them thickened with unspoken tension.

"Fanny," Calvin’s dark, fathomless gaze held hers, something smoldering in their depths.

"Should we try—"

"Calvin!"

Her heart hammered like thunder as Tiffany hastily cut him off, pushing herself upright and out of his embrace.

"I’m hungry."

She had no idea how to respond to what Calvin might say next.

The fear gnawed at her—if she let him speak and then turned him down, even their friendship might be ruined.

Of course, she was even more terrified of foolishly agreeing, only to wake up from her own delusion.

Tiffany lowered her lashes, her beautiful eyes shadowed with uncertainty.

Deep down, she knew the truth—Calvin was too extraordinary, far beyond her reach.

Holding onto unrealistic fantasies would only leave her with nothing in the end.

At this moment, Tiffany had never felt more insecure in her twenty-something years of life.

Calvin paused, his sharp, narrow eyes fixed intently on her.

When he saw the panic and helplessness in her gaze—rather than rejection—he exhaled quietly in relief.

*Fine. I’ll take it slow.*

"Well, if you’re hungry, let’s head downstairs," he said, forcing a casual smile, his voice deliberately light.

"Grandma probably already had the kitchen prepare something. She’s waiting for us."

"O-okay, yeah.

I’ll—I’ll go freshen up first," she stammered.

Tiffany nodded repeatedly in a fluster, even stepping barefoot onto the floor in her haste as she made to head toward the bathroom.

Luckily, the plush carpet beneath her feet spared her from much of the chill.

But she hadn’t taken two steps before a long, muscular arm wrapped around her waist from behind, pulling her back effortlessly.

Her beautiful eyes widened in shock, and a soft gasp escaped her lips.

"Calvin, what are you doing?"

"Don’t want you catching a cold," Calvin murmured, scooping her up and depositing her gently onto the bed.

Then he rose from the sofa, walked over to the bedside, and picked up her shoes before kneeling in front of her.

"Calvin," Tiffany protested immediately, her voice sweet yet flustered, laced with a hint of playful indignation.

"I can do it myself."

Her feet were delicate and perfectly shaped, her toes fair and rosy—so lovely one might be tempted to cradle them in their palms.

A shadow flickered in the depths of Calvin’s dark eyes, his throat tightening ever so slightly.

"Stay still," he commanded softly, taking her foot in his hand and slipping the shoe on with tender care.

Tiffany stared at the slender, elegant hand holding her foot, feeling as though the skin it touched was burning with an almost unbearable heat.

Her cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of pink, her dark, glistening eyes fixed on the man crouched before her.

Oh no.

If this kept up, she might really fall for him. She had to snap out of it!

"Calvin—"

Before she could finish, Calvin had already stood up, his gaze warm and steady as he looked at her.

"Take your time freshening up.

I’ll wait for you downstairs."

Tiffany could only nod obediently at his words.

Calvin curved his lips into a faint smile and strode out of the room. Left alone, Tiffany sat on the bed, her face still burning.

It took her a long moment to regain her composure before she finally made her way to the bathroom.

Downstairs, Grandma Calvin was sipping her tea.

When she saw her grandson descend with a smile on his face—a stark contrast to his mood when he had returned earlier that morning—the laugh lines at the corners of her eyes deepened. Indeed, love was the best cure for everything.

Love, especially so.

"Grandma,"

Calvin sat across from his grandma, his gaze flickering toward the kitchen.

"Is lunch ready?"

Grandma. Calvin knew her grandson’s temperament all too well.

Calvin had never been one to fuss over food.

This question was undoubtedly for the sake of his beloved.

"We’ve kept everything ready for you both," She glanced at the maid pouring tea for Calvin, a knowing smile playing on her lips.

"Go ahead and serve it now."

"Yes, ma’am."

The maid bowed and retreated. Grandma. Calvin’s eyes lingered on Calvin, brimming with unspoken meaning.

"So, when are you bringing Tiffany home to the Calvin family?"

At her words, the smile on Calvin’s lips faded slightly as he lifted his gaze to meet hers.

"You’ve already seen it, no need to take it back."

Grandma was the only person he truly cared about.

As for the rest of the Calvin family, he couldn’t be bothered.

Afraid of keeping grandma.

Calvin waited, Tiffany quickly freshened up and headed downstairs.

But just as she turned the corner, she overheard Calvin’s words.

No need to take it back.

* Her steps faltered, a pang of bitterness rising in her chest.

Of course.

A sham would always remain a sham.

"Young man, your parents have already—"

Grandma. Calvin frowned, about to say something when she suddenly spotted Tiffany.

"Fanny," she called out warmly, her face lighting up with genuine affection at the sight of her granddaughter-in-law.

"You must be hungry. Lunch is ready—come eat with Grandma."

Facing grandma.

Calvin, Tiffany pushed down her emotions and forced her usual bright smile.

"Okay."

Yet her gaze never once turned toward Calvin.

Calvin knew Tiffany must have overheard their earlier conversation and misunderstood.

His eyes narrowed slightly.

"Fanny—"

But Tiffany acted as though she hadn’t heard him, linking arms with Grandma Calvin as they headed toward the dining room.

Calvin’s injuries had mostly healed by now.

Once this meal was over, it would be time for her to leave.

Some unrealistic fantasies needed to be cut off sooner rather than later.

A wry smile tugged at the corner of Calvin’s lips before he rose and followed them.

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