Rebirth Swapped Bride; Married to the Ruthless Cursed Billionaire-Chapter 199: The Half moon poison

"Half-Moon," Camilla murmured softly, her crimson lips parting as she spoke the truth.

"It’s a poison that only takes effect late at night—its toxicity is quite unique."

Half-Moon?

Calvin’s brows furrowed deeply, clearly unfamiliar with the name.

But the fact that Camilla hadn’t yet begun the detoxification process suggested this poison wasn’t easy to neutralize.

"If there’s anything I can do to help, just say the word," Calvin said solemnly, his voice low and resolute.

"If it’s within my power, I won’t refuse.

And if it’s beyond me, I’ll find a way to make it happen."

This was the least he owed Sinclair.

"Truly worthy of being Sinclair’s best friend—reliable when it matters most," Camilla remarked with a faint smile, her tone earnest.

"I can cure the poison.

It’ll just take a little time."

You can cure it?

How did Grandpa Luther end up like this?

Calvin glanced at Camilla, then turned his gaze to Uncle Carlos and Ramsey.

His peach blossom eyes, usually upturned with charm, narrowed slightly as understanding dawned in their depths.

"You two really are... a match made in heaven," he drawled, that signature nonchalance creeping back onto his devilishly handsome face.

"Since grandpa’s fine, I’ll take my leave."

"Wait."

Camilla stopped him, a shrewd glint flashing in her eyes.

"Didn’t you just say I could ask for your help if I needed anything?"

Calvin smirked. "Grandpa’s fine now.

Consider that offer revoked."

"Too late."

Camilla tilted her head, her beautiful eyes narrowing.

"There *is* something I need you to do."

Her voice lowered as she laid out her plan to Calvin.

Calvin arched an eyebrow.

"Got it."

These two really didn’t hold back when it came to using people.

The news of Grandpa Luther’s poisoning was now confirmed.

In an instant, some rejoiced while others despaired.

Even more began to stir with restless ambition.

Of course, they had no idea.

Every move they made was under the watchful eyes of Sinclair and Camilla. ---

Meanwhile, hundreds of kilometers away from the capital, in the Mileage region.

"You’re saying the grandpa was poisoned?"

Yoland straightened in his seat, his eyes widening as he stared at his assistant.

"Is the information reliable?"

"Absolutely reliable," The assistant nodded, then relayed everything that had happened in the capital to Yoland.

"Could it be... that Grandpa Luther was poisoned by gu magic?"

Yolanda narrowed his eyes slowly, his voice dropping to a grave tone.

"Did Sinclair come here for this very reason?"

The more he pondered, the more plausible it seemed.

If that were truly the case, curing the old man would count as a monumental achievement—perhaps even a stepping stone to further advancement.

Of course, that was assuming the Luther Family’s main lineage remained intact.

His assistant remained silent.

This wasn’t a matter he could weigh in on.

*Ring-ring—* *Ring-ring—*

Just then, the phone on the table buzzed to life.

Catching Yoland’s glance, the assistant immediately picked up.

"Understood."

"I’ll consult the master first." The call ended.

"Sir, President Luther has left the premises."

The assistant’s tone carried a hint of deference, as if seeking instructions.

"Should we dispatch additional personnel to ensure his safety?"

After all, numerous factions in the capital were actively tracking his movements.

Yoland took a slow sip of tea from the cup beside him, offering no immediate reply.

His slightly puffy eyes narrowed in deep contemplation.

After a long pause, he finally spoke in a measured tone.

"Let it be."

With the situation in the capital still unclear, it was wiser to wait and observe.

His loyalty lies with the head of the Luther Family—not Sinclair.

Whoever claimed that seat would have his allegiance.

That was the safest course of action.

Meanwhile, in an opulent estate somewhere in the capital...

"News from the Luther Family," A silver-haired elder with a stern expression lifted his teacup, his voice low and grave.

"Are you certain?"

Those sharp, penetrating eyes held a trace of doubt.

"The old man from the Luther Family has indeed been poisoned.

By the looks of it, he won’t last much longer," the middle-aged man confirmed with a nod.

"That cheap grandson’s wife is already in complete disarray.

She even begged Calvin to use his connections and throw money around, searching for any physician skilled in antidotes."

He paused, a cold smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

"The Luther Family is about to fall into chaos."

"Don’t celebrate too soon," the elderly man murmured, his eyes narrowing slightly as he slowly set down his cup.

"Whether the Luther Family descends into chaos or not depends on the two from the main bloodline—the grandfather and grandson."

His voice was deliberate, his tone dripping with menace.

"The old one may be down, but there’s still the young one.

Have you tracked down Sinclair’s whereabouts?"

"We have.

He’s in Mileage," the middle-aged man replied, nodding, though his expression grew complicated as he studied the elder.

"Do you think... he’s discovered the truth about the Twin-Life poison?"

"That young man’s mind is unfathomable—it’s only a matter of time before he figures it out,"

The old man sighed heavily, his aged eyes glinting with a chilling darkness.

"According to our plan, Sinclair should have been dead long ago," The middle-aged man’s expression was grim, his voice dripping with frustration.

"Yet suddenly, this Camilla appears out of nowhere, somehow convincing Sinclair to spare Micheal’s life."

He paused, his jaw tightening.

"But what does it matter if he finds out?

That poison has no antidote."

"The world is unpredictable. It’s always wiser to be prepared," The old man’s voice was low, laden with unspoken implications.

"Leak Sinclair’s whereabouts to those who’d be eager to know."

Understanding flashed in the middle-aged man’s eyes.

"You want the Luther Family to take care of him for us?"

"If they succeed, all the better,"

The old man picked up the teapot beside him, pouring slowly as he spoke.

"And if they fail... I wouldn’t mind giving them a little push."

The teapot tilted, filling the cup in an instant.

"The Luther Family has monopolized the wealth and power of the capital for far too long.

It’s time for a change."

What goes around comes around—that’s the way of the world.

Meanwhile...

A sleek black Rolls-Royce sped down the road.

In the backseat, a strikingly handsome man with an air of icy elegance leaned against the leather upholstery, his eyes closed in repose.

His mere presence cast a frigid stillness over the car’s interior.

In the passenger seat, a wiry, bespectacled mercenary typed rapidly on a laptop, his fingers flying across the keyboard.

The screen flickered through multiple surveillance feeds before finally locking onto the hotel floor where Sinclair was staying.

Behind the wheel, another mercenary—this one with a scar curling at the corner of his mouth—kept a sharp eye on the rearview mirror while maneuvering the car.

Before long, he noticed several vehicles trailing them at a steady, deliberate distance.

"Mr. Luther," he said in a low voice, shattering the silence, "we’ve got company."

His grip tightened on the wheel.

"I’ll lose them."

"Let them be," Sinclair’s thin lips parted slightly as a deep, gravelly voice laced with chilling menace escaped.

"Let them follow. freewebnøvel.com

I’d like to see what they’re after."

Or more accurately—what they *dare* do.

"Understood."

The scarred mercenary at his side immediately caught his meaning and fell silent.

The car continued gliding smoothly forward, as if entirely unaware of the tail behind them.

Meanwhile, shadowy figures flickered across the hotel’s surveillance screens.