Rebirth Swapped Bride; Married to the Ruthless Cursed Billionaire-Chapter 309: A bet between Taylor and Sinclair

The butler caught the implication in Taylor’s words and was visibly startled.

"Sir, are you suspecting that the child might be... yours?"

"I’m not suspecting anything," Taylor cut him off, his voice suddenly turning icy.

"Just investigate.

The sooner, the better."

"Yes, sir!"

The butler’s tone grew solemn and resolute.

"I’ll send someone to investigate immediately."

The call ended, but Taylor’s mind remained unsettled.

Sinclair leaned back in his chair, his long, dark eyes glinting with amusement.

"That woman nearly destroyed you back then.

Aren’t you afraid of history repeating itself?"

Taylor studied the chessboard before him, a faint self-deprecating smile playing at his lips.

"If I were still that gullible, the Taylor family’s core assets would’ve been devoured long ago." Sinclair smirked dismissively.

"How about," he said, pouring a cup of tea and sliding it toward Taylor, his dark eyes narrowing slightly, "we make a bet?"

Taylor’s expression remained serene, his gaze calm as still water.

"Alright," he replied, picking up the teacup with effortless grace and taking a measured sip.

"What are we betting on?"

"You win, you can pick any Luther Corporation project that catches your eye—no restrictions."

Sinclair leaned back in his chair, his long legs crossed with effortless elegance.

His striking features carried an air of nonchalance as he spoke.

"If I win, I get Borey Real Estate."

"No problem,"

Taylor replied with a composed smile, his demeanor as calm as still water.

His gaze lingered on Sinclair before he added lightly,

"Are you really not going to tell Calvin about the antidote?"

"What happened with Michael—I don’t blame him for it."

Sinclair’s sharp, chiseled face remained impassive as he studied the chessboard before him.

"No need to burden him with unnecessary guilt."

Taylor nodded in quiet understanding and let the matter drop.

Meanwhile, in another room... Under the watchful eyes of Iris and grandma.

Porter, Camilla finally spoke, her voice soft yet unwavering.

"I can make Carie Ann speak again."

The moment those words left her lips, both Iris and grandma. Porter froze.

As the meaning sank in, disbelief flickered across their faces.

Grandma Porter was the first to speak, her eyes brimming with emotion as she gazed at Camilla.

"Mrs. Luther, did you just say you could make Carie Ann speak again?"

"That’s correct."

Camilla nodded, her delicate face composed and serene.

"If I’m not mistaken, Carie Ann’s muteness isn’t congenital—it’s caused by residual toxins in her body."

Her beautiful eyes narrowed slightly as she regarded the two women.

"And as it happens, I know exactly how to neutralize them."

"Carie Ann ended up like this because of me."

Iris finally steadied her trembling emotions, her clear eyes fixed intently on Camilla.

"If you truly can restore her voice, Mrs. Luther, I’ll agree to any condition you name."

The weight behind the word "any" spoke volumes about her sincerity.

Grandma Porter nodded solemnly.

Ms. Iris’s promise carried the authority of their entire clan.

"Aside from the Life-Linked poison we discussed earlier, I require nothing else."

Camilla took a measured sip from her teacup, her voice cool and unhurried.

"As for Carie Ann’s matter, I’ve actually had this intention all along.

It’s just that I didn’t have her family’s permission before, so I couldn’t make the decision unilaterally."

These words tugged at Iris and grandma Porter’s heartstrings.

"Please invite Mr. Luther over," Iris said, urgency lacing her voice.

"I’ll examine the condition of the poisonous insects right away."

Meanwhile, outside the door... "Dad," Ramsey frowned, looking utterly conflicted as he faced the older man.

"I genuinely don’t know anything about this." Like father, like son.

Uncle Carlos didn’t believe a single word his son was saying.

Uncle Carlos fixed Ramsey with a stern gaze and snorted coldly.

"You follow the Mr. Sinclair around every single day, and you expect me to believe you’re clueless?"

His brows knitted together slowly.

"I may be getting on in years, but I’m not senile enough to fall for your nonsense."

"Only someone who’s lost their marbles would harm their own son like this."

Ramsey muttered under his breath, shooting a resentful glance at his father.

"If President Luther finds out I’m playing favorites, do you think he’ll go easy on me?"

Uncle Carlos raised his hand in mock exasperation, torn between amusement and irritation at his son’s grumbling.

"Then aren’t you afraid I might give you a beating right now?"

"Go ahead if you must," Ramsey sighed dramatically, his expression in the picture of resignation.

"At least you won’t hit as hard as President Luther would."

With that, he deliberately took two steps forward, placing himself directly within his father’s reach.

His face turned deadly serious as he met uncle Carlos’s gaze.

"Actually, do me a favor—knock me out cold.

That way I won’t be able to stop you."

Uncle Carlos fell silent for a long moment.

"My, aren’t you something," he finally said, his tone unreadable as he brought his hand down to clap Ramsey’s shoulder with deliberate slowness.

"This isn’t over."

Ramsey nodded obediently.

"Oh, alright."

Uncle Carlos had completely lost his temper.

Uncle Carlos turned and walked away, though his expression was no longer as relaxed as before.

The more they try to hide something, the more likely there’s trouble brewing.

The old man’s suspicions might not be unfounded. ---

Inside the study, Taylor led Carrie Ann aside, absentmindedly toying with the building blocks on the table while his thoughts lingered on Violet.

Sinclair lay unconscious on the sofa, several silver needles inserted around his chest—clearly the work of Camilla.

Iris retrieved that black flute, no thicker than a finger, and raised it to her lips.

"Mrs. Luther," she said deliberately before playing, "I’m about to begin.

No matter what you see, don’t be afraid.

It won’t harm you."

"I know," Camilla replied, her delicate face calm and composed as she gazed at Sinclair.

"Don’t worry."

Iris nodded and began to play her flute.

A soft, soothing melody filled the air.

Before long, a jade-white spider, about the size of a palm, crawled out from her sleeve.

A spider of that size was already rare, let alone one with such an ethereal, milky-white hue.

It was clear at a glance that this was no ordinary poison insect.

Camilla had seen this before—her beautiful eyes remained calm and composed.

No doubt, this was Iris’s life-bound poison, just like grandma Porter’s two-headed snake or the golden silkworm inside Carrie Ann.

The jade spider crept onto Sinclair’s body, coming to rest on his arm.

Iris narrowed her eyes slightly, and the flute’s melody suddenly turned sharp and urgent.

Without warning, the spider lowered its head and sank its fangs into Sinclair’s arm.

Camilla’s brow furrowed. She wasn’t worried that Iris would take the chance to harm Sinclair—if there were any changes in his pulse, she’d sense it immediately.

If Iris truly went through with this, none of them would make it out of the Luther Family’s ancestral mansion alive.

At that very moment, the flute’s melody shifted once more.

A pale spider began crawling slowly up Sinclair’s arm, its movements deliberate, as if searching for something.

Camilla’s beautiful eyes narrowed slightly.

*Is this spider tracking down the parasitic poison worm?*

Her suspicion was soon confirmed.

The jade-white spider paused just above Sinclair’s heart, its emerald-green eyes seemingly fixed on Iris.

A flash of understanding crossed Iris’s gaze before she lowered the flute, silencing its eerie tune.

Grandma Porter’s brows furrowed slowly, her expression darkening. Camilla observed their reactions carefully.

"How is he?"

"Not good," Iris replied, extending her finger toward the spider.

In an instant, the creature understood, skittering back into her sleeve.

"If I’m not mistaken, the host of the poison is already at death’s door.

Sinclair won’t last much longer."

The host of the original poison naturally referred to Michael.

Camilla gave a slight nod.

"That settles it," Iris said as she settled back into her seat, her voice sweet yet chilling.

"The life-linked poison inside Mr. Sinclair has already sensed it—it’s now frantically eating away at his body, preparing to live and die alongside the original poison."

After explaining this to Camilla, she continued,

"My own life-linked poit senses that it’s about to reach his heart.

If we don’t remove it now, it’ll be too late."

Pausing briefly, Iris fixed her gaze on Camilla and asked,

"Have you chosen the new host for the original poison?"

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