Chapter 283: New clothes

Words : 1255 Updated : Oct 13th, 2025

Chapter 283: New clothes Hot Spring Resort, City N. "Ring—" "Ring—" The crisp chime of the phone rang persistently, as if refusing to give up. Camilla’s beautiful eyes fluttered open slightly as she fumbled for her phone and pressed it to her ear. "Who is it—?" Her voice carried the unmistakable drowsiness and muskiness of someone just waking up. "It’s me." The man on the other end of the line paused briefly, double-checking the time before speaking again. "Did I wake you?" His tone was, as always, gentle and polite. "Should I hang up and call back when you’re awake?" Taylor?! "No need," The last traces of drowsiness vanished instantly from Camilla’s eyes, her beautiful gaze sharpening with clarity. "You’re back?" What she really wanted to ask was whether the poisonous master—the one with close ties to Taylor—had been brought back as well. "Yeah, just arrived in the capital," Taylor replied, cutting straight to the heart of the matter, well aware of her unspoken question. "I’ve already invited him here. When would you like to arrange a meeting?" "Would tomorrow work?" Camilla checked the time, her delicate brows knitting slightly. "Sinclair and I aren’t in the capital right now. Even if we rushed back, it’d be late by the time we arrived." Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "You’ve had a long journey—you all must need some rest." "Alright," Taylor responded, his voice deep and soothing. "I’ll wait for your call." "Thank you. I appreciate it." After expressing her heartfelt thanks, Camilla suddenly remembered something. "Oh, by the way, Sinclair already knows everything. No need to keep covering for me anymore." "That fast?" Taylor sounded genuinely surprised, a faint trace of amusement in his voice. Calvin knew Sinclair well—of course, he realized it wouldn’t take long for him to find out. But the timing was even sooner than he’d expected. "Too clever for his own good," Camilla sighed, her tone laced with quiet resignation. "Nothing I can do about it." When Sinclair returned from outside, he found Camilla sitting on the bed, engrossed in what he assumed was a lively phone conversation. At least, that’s how *he* saw it. "Nothing you can do about what?" The deep, resonant voice made Camilla look up. Sinclair stood there in a sleek, dark suit, his tall frame exuding effortless elegance. His striking features carried an air of refined composure, every movement radiating quiet confidence and poise. On the other end of the line, Taylor’s lips curled into a smirk. Yet he didn’t hang up. Instead, he lit a cigarette, settling in with the detached amusement of a spectator. "Woken up by the call?" Sinclair approached Camilla, bending down to envelop her in his arms. His deep, magnetic voice dripped with affection. Given last night’s intensity, there was no way Camilla would be awake this early. "It’s getting late," Camilla murmured, her crimson lips curving into a smile as she gazed at his striking face. "I should be up anyway." Sinclair’s dark eyes narrowed slightly, but he remained silent, his long, pale fingers tracing idle circles along his wife’s slender waist. "It’s Taylor," Camilla said softly, looping her arms around his neck. "Tay’s back." *How cozy.* Sinclair’s obsidian eyes sharpened. As in Taylor? Camilla caught the whiff of jealousy in the air and immediately corrected herself with a straight face. "I misspoke—it’s Taylor." Tsk. Taylor plucked the cigarette from his lips with slender fingers, flicked the ash with an amused smirk, and exhaled a wisp of smoke. Hopeless. "Taylor’s back," Sinclair murmured, idly toying with Camilla’s delicate fingers, his brow slightly furrowed. "Why would he tell *you*?" Since when were they so close? Only then did Camilla remember she hadn’t told Sinclair about asking Taylor for help. "I asked him to personally fetch the poisonous man," she said, leaning in to press a kiss to the corner of his lips. "Taylor called to update me on that." The poisonous man. Sinclair knew exactly why Camilla and Taylor had gone to such lengths—and the reputation of that poisonous man. His dark, fathomless eyes narrowed slightly. Taylor had personally questioned every poisonous teacher brought back from the Mileage territory. So he knew very well. Apart from the three methods previously proposed, there truly were no other solutions. But this was something he had no intention of letting Camilla find out. "Sweetheart..." Noticing the darkening depths of Sinclair’s eyes, Camilla frowned. "What’s wrong?" "Just a little surprised," Sinclair’s thin lips curved slightly, his tone as calm as ever. Unaware of his thoughts, Camilla continued into the phone. "Then tomorrow—see you in San Francisco. Taylor took a slow drag of his cigarette, exhaled leisurely, and replied with a chuckle. "Alright." If he didn’t hang up soon, he feared he might drown in vinegar. The call ended. Camilla wrapped her arms around Sinclair’s neck, pressing the tip of her nose against his. "Sweetheart, once we resolve the Twin Fate poison matter, let’s have a baby." Only then would life feel truly complete. "No need to wait," Sinclair’s dark eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze turbulent with emotion. "We can start now." If they were to have a child, he hoped it would take after Camilla. Leaning down, he captured her lips in a searing kiss, his long, elegant fingers already roaming with bold familiarity. Slow caresses turned to teasing strokes, their passion shifting from tender to urgent—first her above, then him behind, hands gripping her waist. By the time they finally stilled, two hours had slipped away. "Camilla..." Sinclair pulled her close, his voice rough with lingering desire. "Would you like to stay here for a couple more days?" Of course she wanted to. But she also knew how much he’d set aside just to bring her here. "Grandfather still needs care," she murmured, tracing idle patterns on his chest. "And Carrie Ann’s family will be looking for her soon..." She shook her head gently. "I just can’t stay here with my mind at ease." Sinclair pressed a soft kiss against Camilla’s neck, silent. "When we have time someday," Camilla murmured, her voice tender, "you’ll take me traveling around the world, won’t you?" "Of course," Sinclair replied, a faint smile playing on his lips. His dark, fathomless eyes were like an abyss with no end in sight. "If we ever find the time." —— San Francisco. After finishing her shower, Tiffany realized her clothes had been torn beyond repair—completely unwearable. To make matters worse, her undergarments were nowhere to be found. Just as she stood there, flustered, a knock sounded at the door. "Wh-what is it?" "Clothes," Calvin’s gentle, languid voice drifted in from outside the door. "See if they fit." "Okay," Tiffany was taken aback by his thoughtfulness. "Just give me a moment." She grabbed the large gray bath towel from the bathroom and wrapped it tightly around herself. Only after making sure not an inch of skin was exposed did she crack the door open. Calvin had clearly just showered as well, dressed in a long white bathrobe that hung loosely, untied. In his slender, elegant hands was a shopping bag. His devastatingly handsome face wore a faint smile. For some reason, Tiffany’s cheeks burned, and her voice came out timid. "Thank you." As she spoke, she took the bag and quickly shut the door. The curve of Calvin’s lips deepened. So easily flustered. Calvin headed to the walk-in closet, changed, and went downstairs first. In the living room, aside from two doctors who had been waiting, there was also a spirited elderly woman.

Chapter 283: New clothes

Comments (0)