Rebirth Swapped Bride; Married to the Ruthless Cursed Billionaire-Chapter 265: pack your bags and go to Cameroon

"Everything with the Porter family is unfolding exactly as you predicted, but—" Ramsey’s voice grew solemn.

"Calvin Corporation has suddenly made a move, aggressively suppressing and acquiring Porter family shares."

He paused briefly before continuing.

"Hard to say whether they’re just trying to get a piece of the pie."

Ramsey was well aware of the relationship between President Luther and President Calvin.

In business, the two never reached for the same slice.

This time, however, was an exception.

Calvin?

Sinclair leaned back in his chair, exhaling a slow, curling stream of pale gray smoke through his thin lips, veiling those unfathomably dark eyes.

That damn brat.

"President Luther," Ramsey pressed cautiously, his tone weighted.

"Should we send someone to... give President Calvin a heads-up?"

"No need."

Sinclair took a deep drag from his cigarette, then exhaled slowly.

"Let him be."

Only this way could the weight of guilt in Calvin’s heart be eased.

Even though he had never blamed him in the first place.

"Understood."

Ramsey gave a respectful nod.

"Has Gerald returned?"

Sinclair lowered his gaze, his well-defined fingers flicking away the excess ash.

"Yes," Ramsey replied in a steady voice.

"As per your instructions, he’s already waiting at the company."

"Hmm."

Sinclair narrowed his eyes slightly but said nothing more.

The faint crease between his brows, however, remained.

There were still things he needed to clarify—things from the night Camilla arrived in Mileage.

The Luther Family Ancestral Residence.

Grandpa Luther’s health had indeed taken a toll, his vitality noticeably dimmed compared to before.

After chatting with Camilla in the rear courtyard for a while, weariness crept visibly into his eyes.

"Grandfather," Camilla caught the subtle change immediately, her voice softening like gentle spring water.

"Why don’t you go and rest in your room for a bit?"

"No need," Grandpa Luther waved his hand with a practiced smile that didn’t quite reach his tired eyes.

"I’m not tired." It was that generational habit - elders stubbornly masking their exhaustion to spare their younger kin from worry. Grandpa Luther was no exception.

Uncle Carlos sighed knowingly, having anticipated this exact response.

A glimmer of understanding flashed through Camilla’s almond-shaped eyes.

"I know you’re not tired," With a gentle curve to her eyes, she smiled serenely and said,

"But I’ll be heading to the estate later to pick up Carie Ann.

If you don’t rest now and recharge, you won’t have the energy to keep up with her."

"Going to get Carie Ann?"

Grandpa Luther raised an eyebrow, instantly relenting.

"Well then, I really should take a nap. Otherwise, I won’t be able to help her finish that building block set we left off last time."

Camilla nodded with a soft laugh.

"Don’t worry, I’ll make sure of it."

Grandpa rose from his seat.

*Mrs. Luther certainly knows how to persuade someone,* uncle Carlos thought to himself, quietly impressed.

"I’ll head back to my room for now.

Don’t forget to send someone to fetch me when she arrives," Grandpa Luther remarked as he walked away, though his sidelong glance in Camilla’s direction betrayed his casual tone.

"Ah, if only our Luther Family could have a sweet little treasure like Carie Ann one day."

Camilla: "*Grandfather, could you be any less subtle about hinting for grandchildren?*

Grandpa Luther: "Of course you can."

"When exactly am I going to hold my great-grandchild?!"

After Grandpa Luther and Uncle Carlos left, Camilla returned to her room.

She retrieved something from the medicine cabinet before leaving the ancestral home.

Luther Corporation.

"So you’re saying," Sinclair’s inscrutable gaze settled on Gerald, "I was conscious before Camilla arrived?"

His tone was deceptively calm, laced with an unmistakable, bone-chilling coldness that turned the vast office into an icebox.

Under the crushing weight of his authority, Gerald swallowed hard.

"Yes."

"Recount the situation in detail," Sinclair’s dark eyes narrowed slightly, his voice devoid of inflection.

"Leave nothing out."

"Yes," Gerald nodded, forcing his voice to remain steady as he spoke.

"After you regained consciousness, the first thing you asked about was Madam..."

He recounted every word Sinclair had said and every unusual detail, leaving nothing out.

Whenever he missed something, he quickly added it.

"That’s exactly how it happened."

He’d forgotten everything that occurred before?

And during that time, he had called Camilla?

Sinclair remained silent, his long fingers tapping slowly against the desk, his dark eyes radiating an icy intensity.

How could this happen?

Was it a symptom caused by the Life-Linked poison?

At this thought, his fingers stilled, his deep-set eyes tightening with tension.

The atmosphere in the room grew even more suffocating.

A bead of cold sweat trickled down Gerald’s temple, and he discreetly wiped it away.

He’d rather be working overtime in Africa than be alone with the CEO right now.

An indeterminate amount of time passed before the suffocating silence in the office was finally broken.

"Where is the man we brought back from Mileage?"

Gerald lowered his head and answered truthfully,

"At the Hotel."

Sinclair’s dark eyes narrowed slightly.

"Dismissed."

Those two words sounded like heavenly music to Gerald’s ears. novelbuddy.cσ๓

"Yes, sir!"

He gave a quick nod and turned to leave, his steps noticeably lighter.

Watching Gerald’s almost buoyant retreat, something suddenly flashed through Sinclair’s mind.

A glacial glint darkened his obsidian eyes.

"Hold on."

The deep, icy voice froze Gerald mid-step.

His relaxed expression stiffened instantly as he turned back mechanically.

"What else do you need, President Luther?"

"Transfer all your current projects and assignments to Ramsey."

Sinclair’s inscrutable eyes rested coolly on Gerald.

"Pack your bags for Cameroon . You’re going to assist Bessem with his business dealings there."

The message was clear—this was payback.

Cameroon? Isn’t that an African country?!

Gerald’s pupils contracted sharply as he stared at Sinclair in alarm.

Could the boss read minds?

Yet Sinclair’s handsome face remained impassive, revealing nothing.

"Well?"

His dark, narrow eyes lifted slightly as his thin lips parted.

"Any objections?"

The casual tone carried an unmistakable chill that couldn’t be ignored.

"N-no, sir," Gerald shook his head rapidly.

"I’ll leave right away."

He turned and hurried out, his expression a picture of miserable resignation.

Talk about jinxing it.

Should’ve picked a different spot.

The black Rolls-Royce sped toward the outskirts of the city.

"What did they say?"

Camilla asked coldly, her gaze fixed on the scenery flashing past the window.

"That woman insisted," Luke frowned, relaying the message from Mileage verbatim, "on speaking directly with Carie Ann over the phone to confirm the situation before agreeing to come."

"Speak with Carie Ann?"

Camilla turned sharply, her piercing eyes locking onto Luke.

"Are you sure our people didn’t miscommunicate?"

Carie Ann couldn’t speak—why would the woman demand a call with her?

Her delicate brows furrowed deeper.

"Or did we approach the wrong person?"

Though desperate to find someone who could cure Sinclair, she wouldn’t recklessly hand Carie Ann over to just anyone.

"That woman produced a photo with Miss Carie Ann.

Our team verified it multiple times—there’s no mistake," Luke said gravely.

"As for the call, she claimed she and Miss Carie Ann have their own way of communicating.

Said we shouldn’t worry about it."