Chapter 117: midnight visit to the beach

Chapter 117: midnight visit to the beach "Pull over." A deep, icy male voice came from the backseat. "Right away!" Ramsey glanced out the window, puzzled but knowing better than to question. He turned the steering wheel smoothly, bringing the car to a steady stop before awaiting further instructions. "I’m taking Camilla to the beach," Sinclair said, his voice low and firm. "Have the main house send a car to take you back." The beach? At this hour?! Ramsey raised an eyebrow slightly as he checked his watch—the hands already pointing to eleven. Though this wasn’t the first time he’d witnessed it, he couldn’t help but marvel. The boss really does spoil his wife rotten. Grabbing his belongings, he swiftly stepped out of the car and vacated the driver’s seat. At the same moment, Sinclair stepped out, carrying Camilla in his arms. Feeling guilty for her impulsive decision that had left Ramsey stranded in the dead of night, Camilla offered an apology. "Sorry for dragging you out at this ungodly hour." "Not a problem," Ramsey replied with a polite nod and a warm smile. "You’re too kind, Madam." The car started moving again, gliding smoothly toward the seaside. Ramsey tightened his coat around himself and pulled out his phone to call the main residence for a pickup. Some people were out there falling in love, others were gazing at the ocean under the stars. Meanwhile, he was left standing miserably by the roadside, shivering in the cold wind, waiting for rescue. This wasn’t just "not a problem"—it was downright pitiful! Under the silvery glow of the moon, the sea shimmered with rippling light. Unlike its vast, majestic presence during the day, the ocean at night exuded a quiet, almost melancholic solitude. Camilla stood by the shore and slowly closed her eyes. The struggles of her past life are over now. In this lifetime, she would live well, cherish every moment with a sweetheart, and make each day count. This would be the best closure for their past lives. Sinclair’s tall, imposing figure stood not far away. His dark, inscrutable eyes remained fixed on the woman bathed in the cold moonlight, as though nothing else in the world existed but her. When her heart finally settled into calm, Camilla turned and walked toward him, her voice soft. "Sweetheart, let’s go home." "Are you happy now?" Sinclair slid an arm around her waist, his voice roughened with restrained emotion. "I am, Camilla murmured, looping her arms around his neck and tilting her face up to his. Her eyes shimmered with joy, her entire expression radiant with contentment. "Sweetheart, I’m so happy." Under the glow of the car lights, her glistening eyes seemed to hold entire galaxies. Sinclair’s heartbeat faltered, his gaze darkening once more. "But I’m not done yet," he murmured, lowering his head to meet her eyes. His obsidian gaze burned with intensity. "Didn’t Camilla say before," his voice was husky and low, laced with an unspoken implication, "that as long as I’m no longer angry, you’d do anything?" Camilla’s sharp instincts picked up the dangerous undertone in his words, and her heart, which had just settled, began racing again. "I did say that, but—" She bit her lip nervously, her beautiful eyes darting anxiously around their surroundings. "But we’re outside right now. Can we go home first?" "I’ll have someone guard the entrance," Sinclair’s gaze darkened further, like a bottomless whirlpool. "No one will come in until we leave." "But—" Before Camilla could finish, Sinclair pulled her into his arms. "Sweetheart!" The sudden weightlessness made her gasp, and she instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck. "Be good," Sinclair carried Camilla in his arms as he strode toward the waiting car. "Save your voice for later," he murmured, his tone laced with dark amusement. Blushing furiously yet seething with indignation, Camilla turned her head and sank her teeth into his shoulder with a vengeance. Beneath the silver glow of the moon... The night stretched endlessly, devoid of sleep. It wasn’t until the pale light of dawn touched the horizon that the car finally rolled away. Slumped in the passenger seat, Camilla was drenched in a pool of sweat, every last ounce of energy drained from her limbs. She shot Sinclair a glare brimming with an exhausted reproach before closing her eyes in surrender. A rare smile curved Sinclair’s lips. The usual frost in his striking features seemed to melt away entirely. By the time they arrived at the Luther Family estate, Camilla had drifted into a deep, dreamless slumber. Sinclair gathered her carefully into his arms, his movements uncharacteristically gentle as he carried her inside. The household staff on night duty froze mid-task, holding their breath to avoid disturbing the scene. As it turned out, vigorous exercise did wonders for one’s sleep. Camilla slept like the dead. When her eyes fluttered open again, the clock had already ticked past one in the afternoon. She sat on the bed, dazed for a long moment before the memories of last night came flooding back. The soreness in her waist and legs—so intense it felt like she’d been snapped in half—rose up with a vengeance. Camilla bit her lip, her beautiful eyes brimming with resentment. * Sweetheart’s stamina outside the house is even more relentless than at home. I am never indulging in his nonsense again! "Young Madam, you’re awake," Auntie Naomi greeted her warmly, a gentle smile on her face. "What would you like to eat? I’ll have the kitchen prepare it right away." "Chicken burger," Camilla replied, settling onto the sofa before glancing up with a smile. "What time did Sinclair leave?" "Around seven," Auntie Naomi recalled honestly. "Boss had breakfast and then headed straight to the office." Seven o’clock?! Camilla’s beautiful eyes flickered with surprise and resignation. Honestly, it was Sinclair who’d done all the heavy lifting—so why was she the one feeling utterly drained?! "Oh, right, Madam," Aunt Naomi, having just finished instructing the kitchen staff, turned back to her. "Boss called earlier," she relayed, carefully repeating Sinclair’s words. "He asked me to tell you that the Porter family sent someone to the old residence today." She paused briefly before continuing. "He and grandpa have already settled the matter regarding the items you requested, as well as the alliance marriage between the Luther and Porter families. He said you should rest well this afternoon." Once she finished delivering the message, Aunt Naomi stepped aside with a satisfied smile. Ever since Miss Camilla arrived, Boss’s health and mood had visibly improved. At least now, she could face the late Madam with peace of mind. "I see." A faint smirk curled Camilla’s crimson lips, her stunning eyes glinting with icy resolve. "You may go and rest now." She had never been one to scheme against others. But if anyone dared to plot against her or those she cared about—she wouldn’t hesitate to strike back without mercy. Sandra was about to learn the hard way what it meant to reap what one sows. But this small taste of retribution was far from enough. A glacial glint flashed through Camilla’s beautiful eyes. The real heart-wrenching revenge would only begin after she officially married Tyler. Just then, her phone rang. Meanwhile, at the Luther Corporation headquarters... "President Luther," Ramsey hung up the call and turned to Sinclair with a grave expression. "There’s been an incident in the basement."