"Uncle Carlos"
Aunt Naomi stood by his side, offering comfort, though her expression betrayed even deeper distress than Uncle Carlos's.
"Madam assured us Ramsey isn't in any danger.
Why don't you sit down and rest for a while?"
Ramsey had spent his early years tirelessly assisting Grandpa Luther, while Mr. Jonathan and his wife were often occupied with their own affairs.
Both the Boss and Ramsey had practically grown up under her care.
The boss was aloof by nature, and given his status, she had always regarded him with the deference befitting his position.
But Ramsey was different—mischievous and sweet-talking.
In her heart, she had long considered him almost like her own son.
"I'm not worried.
That rascal has nine lives," Uncle Carlos replied, a hint of awkwardness flashing across his face.
Still, he sat down as Aunt Naomi suggested, though his eyes remained fixed on the tightly shut door.
Aunt Naomi saw through his pretense but chose not to call him out, instead steering the conversation elsewhere to ease his tension.
Fortunately, it wasn't long before the door finally swung open, and Camilla stepped out.
Uncle Carlos and Aunt Naomi immediately rose from their seats.
"Madam, is Ramsey alright?"
Aunt Naomi was the first to speak, her voice laced with concern.
"Don't worry, the bullet has been completely removed, and all his other injuries have been treated," Camilla took off her mask, her voice carrying a soothing gentleness.
"Once the anesthesia wears off, he just needs time to recover, and he'll be fine."
"That's good, that's good," Aunt Naomi nodded repeatedly, relief washing over her.
Uncle Carlos visibly exhaled, the tension in his shoulders easing.
"You've worked hard, Madam."
"Uncle Carlos, please don't say that," Camilla shook her head, her expression earnest as she met his gaze.
"Ramsey isn't just a friend to me—he saved Sinclair That alone is reason enough for me to be grateful."
Uncle Carlos looked moved by her words, about to respond when Camilla gently cut in.
"Nothing about this was expected.
Ramsey was incredibly brave," She smiled, already knowing what he wanted to say.
"Ramsey hasn't woken from the anesthesia yet, but Sonia will stay with him.
You can go in to see him anytime.
I'll go check on Sinclair now."
"Of course," Uncle Carlos nodded in agreement.
Inside the study, the atmosphere was thick with quiet intensity.
"The timing is right," said Sinclair, closing the file in his hands with deliberate precision.
A faint smirk played at the corners of his lips.
"Sell the shares we've acquired to the Thomas family—at a premium."
His voice was low and measured, devoid of any discernible emotion.
"In addition," he added coolly, "return the person as well."
"Understood," Luke replied with a respectful nod.
Clutching the contract, he turned to leave—only to nearly collide with Camilla, who was just entering with a steaming bowl of soup in her hands.
"Madam—"
Camilla offered him a warm smile.
"You've worked hard."
"Not at all, not at all," Luke stammered, acutely aware of the piercing gaze burning into the back of his head.
He didn't dare linger, dipping his head in a quick bow before hurrying away.
The last thing he wanted was to be shipped off to some remote mine in the UK.
"The surgery is over?"
Sinclair took the soup from Camilla's hands and enveloped her in his embrace, his deep eyes unusually tender.
"It's over.
Everything went smoothly."
Camilla knew he had also been worried about Ramsey's condition.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, her expression sweet and serene.
"What about the Harrison family and Algrea?
Did everything go well there?"
Sinclair's eyes narrowed slightly as he gazed at her, his typically icy voice softening to its gentlest tone as he briefly summarized the situation.
"Things went more smoothly than I expected."
Camilla exhaled in relief, murmuring with a quiet sigh, "Indeed, destroying a family is far easier than building one."
Her lips curved into a faint smile.
"Sweetheart, if they had known they'd end up like this, they would never have dared to move against you."
Sinclair couldn't help but let the corners of his mouth lift as he pressed his forehead lightly against hers.
"There's no such thing as 'if only they had known' in this world."
Repaying kindness with kindness and vengeance with vengeance—that had always been his unwavering principle.
Camilla nodded in agreement.
Once they met the queen tomorrow and revealed the truth of what happened all those years ago, everything would finally come to an end.
What she desired most now was to live a peaceful life from this moment onward.
"Sweetheart, I think I want to go back to San Francisco," Camilla murmured.
Sinclair's eyes narrowed abruptly, and his arm around her waist tightened slightly.
"You can go back anytime you want," he said, lifting his gaze to meet hers with unwavering tenderness.
"Camilla, as long as I'm here, no one can force you to do anything."
"I know.
I've always known," Camilla murmured, her heart swelling with warmth as she met Sinclair's profound gaze.
Leaning in, she brushed her lips against his. "With you here, I fear nothing."
"Mmm."
Sinclair reached out, drawing her into his embrace.
In the shadows where her eyes couldn't see, his narrowed gaze burned with a suffocating, icy lethality.
Anyone who dared threaten her, hurt her—they deserved to vanish from this world.
Soon.
Meanwhile, in a secluded chamber of the palace...
"Eston."
Luna's voice dripped with venom as she glared at the man seated below her.
"You're becoming more useless by the day. Even two simple tasks are beyond you now."
Eston's lips twitched, but he swallowed his retort.
"...My oversight."
After a brief silence, Luna spoke again, her voice laced with an unmistakable chill.
"Two days," she said, her icy gaze fixed on Aiston despite his grim expression.
"You have two more days—make them disappear.
Permanently."
Aiston's eyes hardened.
He drew a deep breath before nodding.
"What about the Nolan family?"
"Nolan Junior is a fool who doesn't know his place, but his father understands which way the wind blows," Luna replied, her gaze dark and unreadable.
"I'll summon him to the palace tomorrow and speak with him myself."
Aiston gave a slight nod.
"Your Highness, are you truly set on marrying Kiara to that troublemaker Nolan?"
After today's events, Nolan's ambitions were glaringly obvious.
If they had to deal with him later, Kiara would be caught in the middle, torn between both sides.
"Nolan's lineage and looks make him the best match for Kiara," Luna said, lifting her eyes.
Her composed face was unnervingly cold.
"As for the rest, we'll discuss it later."
It was clear that Kiara was no longer part of the equation.
Aiston sighed inwardly, nodded, and left the palace without another word. Inside the carriage, the steward wore a troubled expression.
"My lord, what do you intend to do?"
"If we can't eliminate that brat in secret, then we'll do it openly."
Aiston's dark, brooding eyes fixed on the passing scenery outside the window, his voice icy.
"The winery sent over several fine bottles yesterday.
Tomorrow, you will personally deliver an invitation to those two—ask them to the estate for a wine tasting."
The steward immediately grasped his lord's meaning.
"Understood.
I will ensure they attend."
Aiston said nothing more.
His reflection in the carriage window gleamed with a chilling, murderous intent.
Unnoticed, the winds of change began to stir.
The sky darkened.
By midnight, the looming storm clouds finally unleashed their fury.
Trees and flowers swayed violently in the biting wind.
A cold, relentless rain poured from the heavens, drumming against the windows in a steady, rhythmic pattern.
"Sinclair—" Camilla jolted awake from her dream as she sensed the rain outside.
Instinctively, she turned to look at Sinclair beside her.
The dim glow of the bedside lamp cast a faint light, softly outlining the man's sleeping face.
His sharply chiseled profile, usually so stern and aloof, now appeared gentler, almost tender in repose.
Relieved, Camilla let out a quiet sigh and nestled carefully into Sinclair's embrace before closing her eyes again.
The remnants of sleep gradually reclaimed her, and soon she was lost in deep slumber once more.
What she didn't know was that the moment her breathing steadied, the man's eyes slowly opened—clear and alert.
A tender smile curved his lips as he gazed at the peaceful face nestled against his chest, his expression overflowing with quiet affection.
Since Camilla came into his life, those blood-soaked nightmares of stormy nights had long ceased to haunt him.
In the darkness, Sinclair pressed a light kiss to Camilla's forehead before closing his eyes again.
His world had settled back into tranquility.
Outside, the howling wind and torrential rain could no longer touch them.