Rebirth Swapped Bride; Married to the Ruthless Cursed Billionaire-Chapter 412: I can see

"Sis," The man parked the car, his gaze fixed on the tall, upright figure striding into the upscale private restaurant.

"Brother Vincent just went in."

"I CAN SEE!"

Melissa’s voice carried a barely restrained fury, each word gritted between her teeth.

The man flinched at the audible grinding sound behind him.

Why did he get the feeling his sister-in-law was genuinely furious?

"Sis, you—"

"Wait here," Melissa snapped, flinging the car door open and stepping out with barely contained rage.

"I’m going to see if he’s really here to dine with another woman."

If he was... she’d make sure that bastard regretted it.

**SLAM!**

The deafening crash of the car door perfectly punctuated the inferno of her temper.

What had he just heard?

The man in the driver’s seat swallowed hard, stunned by the revelation.

Brother Vincent had ditched his wife to have dinner with another woman?

No way.

Before Miss Melissa came along, Brother Vincent’s world had been completely devoid of any female presence—not even a female pet.

His eyes followed Melissa’s retreating figure, the gossipy fire within him flickering uncontrollably.

What should he do?

The man desperately wanted to tail her and see for himself.

Just then, Melissa, who hadn’t gone far, suddenly stopped in her tracks.

She turned back and yanked open the driver’s door.

The man raised an eyebrow, eagerly pushing the door wider.

"Need me to tag along, Miss Melissa?

No problem—"

"No," Melissa cut him off, extending her hand.

"Just hand me the spare sunglasses and hat

from the car."

She needed a disguise.

No way was she letting Vicente spot her before she saw anything worthwhile.

"Oh, okay."

Given the nature of their profession, disguises were often necessary.

Hats and sunglasses were always kept in the car for such purposes.

The man opened the glove compartment and handed both items to Melissa.

She adjusted the cap and sunglasses while facing the car window, her already petite face now completely concealed except for a fair, delicate chin.

She checked her reflection from every angle, satisfied that nothing seemed out of place.

"So, what do you think?

Can you still recognize me?"

The man looked at her, his lips twitching slightly as he hesitated.

Should he tell her the truth?

While the hat-and-sunglasses disguise might work elsewhere, walking into a restaurant like this would only make her stand out more.

"Should be fine.

Let’s go with this," Melissa said before he could respond, turning on her heel and heading toward the restaurant.

The interior was far more spacious than it appeared from the outside.

The décor was understated yet refined, every detail exuding quiet sophistication.

Dinner hour meant a decent crowd, but Melissa’s eyes, hidden behind dark lenses, quickly scanned the room—only to find no trace of the familiar figure she was looking for.

"Miss," Noticing Melissa was an American, a server immediately approached with a welcoming smile.

"How many in your party?

Do you have a reservation?"

"Just one, no reservation," Melissa answered truthfully.

"Let me find you a seat, then," the server said warmly, stepping slightly ahead to guide her.

"Right this way."

"Wait—um," Melissa adjusted her sunglasses and glanced around before lowering her voice.

"Actually, I followed the gentleman who just came in.

He looked a lot like a friend of mine, but I didn’t get a clear enough look to be sure.

Could you seat me somewhere near him?"

The one who just arrived?

That strikingly handsome man?

It had only been a few minutes, and no one else had entered since, so the server remembered.

She studied Melissa’s heavily concealed appearance and frowned slightly.

However, this young lady didn’t seem like she was here to meet a friend—more like she was here to make trouble.

If he took her over and something happened, the manager would definitely have his head.

Having made up his mind, the waiter’s polite smile turned slightly apologetic.

"I’m sorry, miss, but I’m not sure which gentleman you’re referring to.

You—"

Melissa had caught the hesitation in the waiter’s expression and quickly hatched a plan.

"Look, I’ll be honest with you," she said, pulling out her phone and showing him a recent photo of herself with Vicente.

Lowering her voice, she added, "The man who just went in is my husband.

This is us together."

She paused, then gritted her teeth and spun her tale further.

"I just found out I’m pregnant, and now he’s sneaking around with another woman.

I... I couldn’t believe he’d do this, so I followed him."

So that’s what this was about?

The waiter couldn’t quite see Melissa’s expression, but the strain in her voice made him think she was struggling with heartbreak.

And now that he thought about it, the man *was* sitting across from a woman—a stunningly beautiful one at that.

His resolve softened.

"I can take you somewhere where you can see him," he said cautiously.

"But you have to promise me you won’t cause a scene. If you do, I’ll lose my job."

Melissa exhaled in relief and nodded eagerly.

"I won’t make trouble," she said.

"Unless I absolutely can’t help it."

The waiter remained silent.

"But don’t worry," Melissa picked up a pen nearby, scribbled her phone number on a piece of paper, and pressed it into the waiter’s palm.

She added in a calm tone, "If this affects your job, I’ll compensate you with a full year’s salary."

The waiter didn’t argue further.

"Please follow me," he said quietly, leading the way upstairs.

Melissa nodded, tugging her hat lower as she trailed behind him.

She exhaled softly, the tension in her chest easing slightly.

The second floor was noticeably more refined than the first.

Generous spacing between tables ensured privacy and an upscale ambiance.

Her lips pressed into a thin line.

Thank goodness she’d asked for assistance—if she’d tried finding her way up here alone, the opportunity would’ve slipped through her fingers by now.

The waiter guided her to a seat diagonally across from Vicente’s table, several meters away.

"Your husband is right over there," he murmured discreetly. Melissa’s gaze landed on the man seated with his profile partially turned toward her.

A black baseball cap shadowed his sharp, angular features, leaving only the clean line of his jaw clearly visible in the dim lighting.

Leaning casually against the sofa, his tall and imposing frame exuded a rare relaxed aura, contrasting with his usual stern demeanor.

The quiet intensity about him radiated raw masculinity, drawing subtle yet unmistakable glances from women around the room.

Had it not been for the woman seated across from him, many would have already made their move.

Yes—a woman.

The sight of that feminine silhouette facing Vicente sent a surge of fury through Melissa’s veins.

Clenching her jaw, she forced a tight-lipped smile at the waiter.

"I see.

Thank you."

The waiter nodded, casting her a fleeting look of sympathy before retreating.