Rebirth Swapped Bride; Married to the Ruthless Cursed Billionaire-Chapter 343: Tiffany has an accident

So soon?

Antonio peeled off the bloodstained rubber gloves, his handsome face shadowed with inscrutable thoughts.

The forces behind the scenes seemed even more impatient than he was.

"This woman still has her uses.

She can’t afford any accidents now."

His voice was icy, laced with unmistakable displeasure.

"Understood.

I’ll make the arrangements immediately."

The assistant caught his meaning at once and withdrew.

Antonio walked over to his desk and sat down just as his phone rang.

Seeing the caller ID, his brow furrowed deeply.

After a brief hesitation, he finally answered.

"Grandmother."

"Oh, so you still remember I’m your grandmother?"

The aged woman’s voice on the other end was sharp with undisguised fury, her tone heavy with reproach.

Antonio’s dark pupils contracted slightly, his usually gentle features now cold and detached.

"Of course I know.

Please don’t put it that way."

"Then how should I put it?!"

Antonio’s grandmother was thoroughly displeased with Antonio’s lukewarm, dismissive attitude.

Her anger didn’t subside in the slightest—if anything, it flared even hotter.

"She’s just some ordinary woman.

Is she really worth delaying your return to New York for so long?"

Her tone sharpened like a blade.

"Have you forgotten what matters most right now?

You need to wrest the Antonio family completely from your uncle’s grasp!"

A frosty glint flashed in Antonio’s eyes, though beneath it lingered a faint weariness.

"Don’t worry, I haven’t neglected family affairs.

As for this matter, I’ll wrap it up soon."

"Don’t give me ’soon,’" the old woman’s voice was aged and deliberate, yet carried an edge that could cut steel.

"I’m giving you one final week.

If you’re not back by then, I’ll send the family to deal with that woman myself."

Her words grew colder, heavier.

"Antonio, remember your grandmother’s words—those who achieve greatness cannot afford any attachments."

*Deal with?* Antonio knew exactly what that meant. His brow furrowed deeply.

"Grandma, she’s innocent—"

"Anything that hinders your duties is far from innocent!"

Without giving Antonio a chance to respond, his grandma hung up abruptly.

Antonio pressed his thin lips into a tight line, his narrowed eyes darkening with intensity.

Only one week remained—he had to act swiftly.

Taking Camilla away was non-negotiable. ——

"This is the place," A burly man with a face full of hardened flesh glared at the white Audi in the distance, his expression turning vicious in an instant.

"Move now!"

"Understood."

In a flash, the vehicles that had been tailing Tiffany from afar suddenly accelerated.

Noticing the sudden surge of cars around her, Tiffany immediately snapped attention.

Keeping a steady grip on the wheel, she scanned the road with heightened alertness.

Yet, just at that moment—

A black Passat suddenly swerved into Tiffany’s lane right in front of her.

"Oh no!"

Her heart leaped into her throat as she slammed on the brakes in panic.

The car screeched to a halt, narrowly avoiding a collision.

Gripping the steering wheel with white-knuckled intensity, Tiffany could feel her pulse hammering in her ears.

A cold wave of dread washed over her—if she hadn’t been alert and reacted fast enough, things could have ended badly.

What the hell was that driver thinking?!

Before she could process it, several more cars began closing in on her from all sides.

Even someone as trusting as Tiffany could tell something was very wrong.

What do they want?!

Keeping one hand steady on the wheel, she fumbled for her phone, desperate to call for help.

The Luther residence wasn’t far—if she could just get through, backup might arrive in time.

But the moment her fingers brushed the phone, a car from her blind spot suddenly accelerated at full speed, ramming straight toward her.

"Look out—!"

Tiffany’s pupils contracted in terror as she wrenched the steering wheel hard, barely swerving out of the deadly path.

The phone slipped under the passenger seat before Tiffany could react.

Before she could gather her thoughts, several other cars accelerated and rammed into hers.

"Boom—"

With a deafening crash, the white Audi was violently shoved several meters forward. Chaos erupted instantly.

Tiffany’s vision blurred, the world spinning violently as her body lurched forward from the impact.

Thankfully, the airbag deployed from the steering wheel, cushioning her head and preventing a tragedy.

Passing vehicles merely glanced at the scene, assuming it was just another ordinary accident, and drove on without a second thought.

"Listen up, guys.

You went too hard with the hit. If this woman’s broken, what good is she to me?"

"Enough," growled the burly man with a face full of scars, eyeing the slightly crumpled target vehicle.

"All you ever think about is what’s between your legs.

Hurry up and get her into our car before this turns messy."

His tone dripped with impatience, shutting down any further jokes from the others.

"Got it."

Two men stepped out of the car and advanced toward Tiffany, while the rest kept a sharp watch on their surroundings.

Dazed, Tiffany lifted her head just in time to see the two men closing in.

No—she couldn’t let them take her.

Her teeth sank into her crimson lips as she fought through the pain, reaching out with trembling fingers to press the ignition button again.

"Vroom—"

Thankfully, the engine roared to life.

Gritting her teeth against the dizziness, she slammed her foot on the accelerator, sending the car lurching straight toward the approaching men.

"Oh no—"

The two men’s pupils contracted in terror as they saw the car barreling toward them, but the distance was too short to dodge.

"Thud!!"

Two dull thumps sounded—one man was knocked to the ground, while the other was sent flying by the impact.

Everyone was stunned by the sudden turn of events.

"Damn it, that bitch actually dares to hit us?!"

The thickest man with a face full of scowling fury was the first to react, slamming his fist against the steering wheel.

"Ram is hard!"

"Whatever they’re after, we can’t let them catch us."

Too panicked to even feel fear, Tiffany shook her throbbing head and stomped on the accelerator again, surging forward.

The white Audi smashed straight into the side door of the Passat blocking its path, shoving it forward.

But they hadn’t gone far when another crash came from behind.

"Bang!"

The rear of the car was struck with a deafening impact.

"Screech—"

The tremendous impact sent the car spiraling out of control, careening toward the roadside guardrail.

Tiffany’s head slammed against the steering wheel once more with a sickening thud.

Darkness pulsed at the edges of her vision as consciousness began to slip away.

In those final moments before blacking out, Camilla and Calvin’s faces flashed before her eyes.

Would she ever see them again?

If not... she hoped they wouldn’t grieve too much for her.

Meanwhile, Camilla suddenly clutched her chest, a wave of unease washing over her.

Her delicate brows furrowed slightly.

Sinclair’s gaze darkened instantly.

"What’s wrong?

Are you feeling unwell?"

Camilla shook her head.

"Just a sudden pang of anxiety.

It’s nothing."

It felt like something terrible was about to happen—or perhaps already had.

Of course, she kept those last thoughts to herself.

Sweetheart, had been treating her like fragile porcelain lately, shielding her from even the slightest worry.

And besides... it was just a vague, baseless premonition.

Sinclair gently took the paintbrush from Camilla’s hand, then bent down and scooped her up from the chair.

"I’ll carry you back," he said.

Camilla couldn’t help but laugh at her husband’s overly cautious manner.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she gazed at him with amused exasperation in her crescent-shaped eyes.

"But sweetheart, Grandpa will be coming down for dinner soon," she reminded him.

With elders present, it wouldn’t be proper for her to retreat upstairs to rest.

"Hmm,"

Sinclair responded, his handsome face as composed as ever, his steps never faltering.

"I’ll bring the food up and feed you."

Clearly, out of everything she’d just said, he’d only registered the word "dinner."

Typical.

The corners of Camilla’s lips curled further in amusement.

Realizing it was pointless to argue, she simply gave in, nestling against the reassuring warmth of his chest while silently weighing the potential crises ahead.

After settling Camilla in their room, Sinclair returned downstairs to personally prepare dinner for his wife.

Uncle Carlos was waiting in the living room and immediately approached when he saw Sinclair.

"Sir, grandpa is expecting you in the study," he informed him.

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