Rebirth Swapped Bride; Married to the Ruthless Cursed Billionaire-Chapter 227: Sinclair has found out about his Illness

"The Twin-Life poison," The frail, slightly hunched white-haired elder spoke in a grave voice.

Twin-Life poison?

Twin... life?

Sinclair’s narrowed eyes suddenly sharpened, a terrifying chill rising from their depths.

"This particular poison is rather unique," the old man continued hesitantly under Sinclair’s piercing gaze, choosing his words carefully.

"Once planted, the victim becomes bound to the caster—sharing life and death, heart and fate."

He paused briefly.

"To put it simply, if the caster so desires, they can directly control whether the victim lives or dies."

Sharing life and death.

Sharing heart and fate. With every word the elder uttered, the darkness in Sinclair’s eyes deepened.

An oppressive, suffocating aura of fury radiated from his entire being.

His life and death were actually in someone else’s hands?

How could Michael dare?!

How dare he?!

The three elders immediately sensed the overwhelming pressure radiating from him, their breaths tightening involuntarily.

Seconds ticked by, and the air in the room seemed to freeze solid.

Sinclair clenched his fists, struggling to suppress the murderous rage boiling inside him.

His voice was low and rough when he finally spoke.

"This curse—"

His piercing gaze, colder than the deepest winter, swept over them.

"How do you break it?" The three elders hesitated, exchanging uneasy glances before the white-haired leader finally answered. "There is no cure."

No cure?

Sinclair’s striking features tensed, his dark eyes glinting with something terrifying.

So this was why Camilla had kept it from him?!

Earlier, Yoland had warned them exactly who—and what—they were dealing with.

Truly terrifying.

Sensing the ominous aura surrounding them, the three elderly men felt a chill crawl up their spines. Would he take his anger out on them?!

"Actually... there might still be a way," The old man in the traditional long robe, who had remained silent until now, hesitated before speaking.

The promised reward flashed in his mind as he cautiously met Sinclair’s gaze.

"While the poison of the Life-Linked poison is indeed incurable, the poison itself... can be transferred."

The moment these words were spoken, the other two elders exchanged uneasy glances, their expressions turning grim.

Clearly, they understood exactly what this "transfer" entailed. Sinclair’s voice was low and measured, his dark eyes swirling with a tempest of unspoken fury.

"Go on."

—— San Francisco. Inside the speeding black Maybach.

Camilla leaned back in her seat, feigning sleep.

Her mind replayed the words the man had spoken to her in the secret dungeon.

"There’s no antidote for the Twin Fate botulinum poison—the only way is to transfer the parasite."

"Someone must feed the host poison worm with their own heart’s blood for forty-nine days to lure it out."

"Then a skilled botulinum poison master must use special methods to transfer the parasite into the blood donor’s body."

"Of course, the donor must be completely willing, without the slightest resistance.

Otherwise, not only will the effort fail, but it may hasten or even cause the gu worm’s death."

"That’s why the ideal candidate is someone who loves the victim dearly—someone willing to stake their life for them."

... Human hearts are fickle. With Sinclair’s life at stake, she couldn’t afford to gamble—nor would she.

Camilla’s long, thick lashes fluttered slightly as she steeled her resolve.

Just then, Ramsey’s tense voice suddenly cuts through the silence.

"Madam, we’re being followed."

Camilla opened her eyes, her icy gaze flicking to the rearview mirror without surprise.

If she wasn’t mistaken, this was what that fool was doing again.

Perfect timing—she’d lost all patience for these games.

"Contact Luke."

San Francisco.

A sleek black Maybach glided smoothly along the city streets.

Six or seven vehicles of varying models trailed behind at a calculated distance, blending seamlessly into the flow of traffic.

"Wolf," a man’s low, ominous voice crackled through the radio.

"The woman changed her route again. Looks like she’s heading toward the outskirts."

"Even better," the wiry man exhaled a plume of smoke, his shadowed face twisting into a cold smirk.

"Fewer people, fewer cars—makes our job easier."

His dark eyes gleamed with quiet menace.

"Tell the boys to stay sharp. I’ll take a team to cut her off." frёewebnoѵēl.com

"Copy that."

Meanwhile.

Why hasn’t there been any news yet?

Sandra sat on her apartment sofa, cigarette in hand, her tense gaze fixed on the phone in front of her.

Could those people have failed?

A flicker of panic flashed in her eyes, but she quickly composed herself.

She hadn’t revealed her identity, and the number she used was untraceable.

Even if something went wrong, there was no way it could be traced back to her.

Just then, a series of urgent knocks suddenly pounded on her door.

Meanwhile.

Inside a black Maybach.

"Madam," Ramsey pressed the wireless earpiece in his ear and spoke in a low voice. "It’s all arranged." "

Good," Camilla replied calmly, her eyes fixed on the suspicious vehicle in the rearview mirror.

"Proceed as planned."

The sooner these ants were dealt with, the sooner she could return to the family estate to take care of Grandfather.

"Understood!" Ramsey nodded sharply and floored the accelerator.

The black Maybach shot forward like an arrow released from its bow.

"Boss, I think they’ve spotted us."

"So what if they have?"

The burly man with a face full of hardened muscle narrowed his eyes, a cruel smirk twisting his lips.

"There are only two roads here. Wolf and his boys are closing in from the other side—she’s got nowhere to run."

As he spoke, he slammed his own foot down on the gas.

"All units, full speed ahead. Box her in."

"Copy that!"

The convoy of black vehicles behind them roared forward in pursuit of the Maybach.

"Seems they’re getting impatient."

Noticing the sudden surge of movement in her rearview mirror, Camilla’s beautiful eyes darkened like gathering storm clouds.

"Be careful."

"Got it."

Ramsey’s expression turned grave.

"Hold on tight, ma’am." With practice ease, he spun the steering wheel, swerving the car onto another road and accelerating rapidly.

"Damn it!"

A burly man with a face full of scowling wrinkles darkened with irritation.

"Think you can run?

Dream on!"

His murky, vicious eyes narrowed as he spat out the words with venom.

"Run them all over! Best finish this before Wolf gets here—more for the rest of us!"

Money makes the mare go.

At his command, the cars behind them surged forward recklessly.

The fastest one aimed straight for the rear of Camilla’s vehicle.

"Ma’am, grab the handle!!"

Ramsey jerked the wheel sharply, barely dodging the impact at the last second.

The car couldn’t break in time and crashed into a lamppost with a deafening bang, its front end crumpling instantly.

"Useless piece of junk," the burly man with a face full of menace snarled, his eyes glinting with malice.

He floored the accelerator, ramming straight into the corner of the Maybach.

"Damn it, dodged again?"

**BAM!**

The impact sent Ramsey and Camilla lurching forward, but they braced themselves and steadied almost immediately.

"Madam," Ramsey’s voice was tense with concern.

"Are you alright?"

"I’m fine," Camilla replied, her piercingly cold gaze fixed on the approaching vehicle.

"Hand me the gun."