Chapter 65: I Love you Sweetheart and I love you too wifey

Chapter 65: I Love you Sweetheart and I love you too wifey "I’ve tried more than a dozen times," The housekeeper glanced at Mr. Luna, his face pale, and then bowed his head in distress. "Not only is the communication system unable to establish contact, but the GPS positioned in their teeth has also lost its signal." Simply put. The ones they sent to kill Sinclair have disappeared without a trace, as if they’ve evaporated from existence. It is highly probable that their luck has run out. Of course, the housekeeper didn’t dare to voice the latter part. "Damn it," Mr. Luna’s hand, holding a cigarette, trembled. He then harshly smashed the ash from the cigarette to the floor. "So much for the so-called professional killer organization, I see nothing but a bunch of incompetents who create more problems than they solve!!" The lit end of the cigarette fell onto the expensive carpet, scorching several holes through it. A faint burnt smell permeated the air, but neither of the two present paid any attention to it. The housekeeper’s face was even paler. "Sir...what should we do now?" If those people truly fell into Sinclair’s hands, he would certainly trace it back to the Luna Family. Mr. Luna’s fists clenched tightly as he tried to calm himself down, but the fear in his eyes and the pronounced veins on his neck indicated his true state of mind. "Have arrangements been made for Madam and Roman?" he asked. "Yes," the butler replied, wiping the cold sweat from his forehead. "Madam and the others have already arrived in the country." "Arrange for a car now, to the airport!!" With a worried look, Mr. Luna got up and took the briefcase prepared earlier by his side. His clothes were already soaked with cold sweat. Only if he leaves the city as soon as possible could they be safe!! Everything else was no longer their concern. The butler nodded and was about to leave, but as soon as he reached the door, "Bang --" Accompanied by a loud noise, the tightly closed door was kicked open from the outside. Dozens of stern-faced mercenaries walked in. "Who... who are you? What do you want?!" Mr. Luna’s pupils suddenly constricted, and the blood drained from his face in an instant. "Mr. Luna," Ramsey, with an appropriately relaxed smile, walked in. "Our boss, Mr. Luther, is expecting you." Luther Manor. Sinclair slowly walked into the living room. He noticed a delicate figure leaning on the sofa, his eyes narrowed immediately. Camilla? Why is she sleeping here, is she waiting for him? He redirected his steps towards the sofa, and squatted down next to it. Camilla was tucked into the corner of the sofa, curling up into a tiny ball. Her long, thick eyelashes cast a soft shadow, and her exquisitely fair cheeks had turned a light shade of red due to deep sleep. A strange sense of tranquil beauty. The corners of Sinclair’s mouth slightly hooked up, and the sharpness in his eyes also dissipated quite a bit. He reached out to caress Camilla’s face, but quickly held back. These hands that have stained with blood are too filthy, better not. A hint of self-mockery flashed across Sinclair’s eyes unexpectedly. Camilla, who was deep in sleep, seemed to sense something. Her thick eyelashes fluttered and opened her eyes. The man’s handsome and indifferent face was instantly imprinted before her eyes. The sleep remaining in her eyes immediately turned into a sweet smile. "sweetheart, you’re back." "Mm," Sinclair’s eyes softened a bit, his voice hoarse. "Didn’t I tell you to go to rest early, not to wait for me?" He could clearly feel the chill in his heart melting under the gaze that was full of love before him. "But I also said," Camilla’s face was serious as she looked at Sinclair and softly said. "No matter how late, I will wait for you." She reached out her hand, acting coquettish. "Didn’t see you for a day, hug--" "Camilla," Sinclair looked at his dainty wife with her extended hand, frozen on the spot. "I’m dirty," His voice was raspy. "Shall I wait till I’m cleaned up before hugging you, is that alright?" At this moment, Sinclair once again disgusts himself covered in blood. Even the warmth placed before him, he dares not touch. As a doctor, Camilla is particularly sensitive to the smell of blood. She had long detected the bloody scent on Sinclair, along with the bloodshot eyes hidden deep within. Any extreme emotion could easily trigger Sinclair’s condition. She had to figure something out. "I don’t mind," Barefoot, Camilla climbed down from the sofa, walked to Sinclair’s side, and embraced him without any hesitation. "Sweetheart," She tilted her head upward, her sparkling eyes fully reflecting Sinclair’s figure. "No matter who you are or what you’ve done, as long as you are my sweetheart, I will not hesitate to reach out and hold you, just as I am doing now." "And, I will never leave." She said this to soothe Sinclair’s apparently restive condition. But it is also from the heart. Will she hold him without hesitation at any time? Never leave? Sinclair cast his eyes down, watching Camilla silently, his dark eyes shrouded with hidden emotions. Such words, he was hearing for the first time. After all, even the woman who shared his blood announced her abandonment so easily. But why did he instinctively believe her words? "Sweetheart," Camilla quickly caught the swirling emotions in Sinclair’s eyes. She immediately hugged him around his neck, coquettish telling him, "I’m a bit tired, carry me back to the room, alright?" The woman’s sweet voice seemed to carry warmth, dispelling some of the coldness from Sinclair’s eyes. "....Alright," He did not refuse anymore, slightly exerting force on his arm to cradle Camilla across his chest as he walked towards the room. Camilla nestled her face against where Sinclair’s heart beats, slowly starting to speak. "Sweetheart, I love you." Sinclair’s pace halted almost imperceptibly, then instantly transitioned back to normal. His eyes, from corners to brows, were filled with restraint, but the deep hue of his pupils seemed like it could swallow the girl in his arms whole. In the room, "Camilla," Sinclair didn’t put the girl in his arms down. His voice was hoarse, and his deep eyes locked onto Camilla as if she were in a prison. "Repeat what you said just now." "I love you." Camilla lightly stroked the man’s slightly cold face. "Sweetheart, I can say it ten times, a hundred times, a thousand times, or anytime you want to hear..." The fading voice vanished between their lips. The man’s heart, hidden in the darkest depths, was shattered by the woman’s words, allowing threads of light to seep in. The kiss grew deeper, the lingering intimacy intensified. The temperature in the room seemingly rises with the growing proximity between the two. Just as Sinclair’s rationality was about to dissipate, he steadied his gaze, turned his head, and stopped himself. "I’m going to freshen up. Wait for me." However, as he was about to leave, a slender, fair hand grabbed him. "Sinclair," Camilla, blushed, her eyelashes trembling slightly. "Let’s freshen up later." Although she was a bit scared, she didn’t want Sinclair to rely on cold showers to quench his desire every day. Even if he’s physically strong, he’s not made of iron. Sinclair instantly understood. His deep, dark eyes stared at Camilla, like a deep whirlpool. A scene of affectionate interaction. ... Outside the window. The night deepens and storms gather. The white roses sway in the wind and rain. They nearly couldn’t stand under the onslaught of the storm, almost bowing down to the ground. This night, love seems to overflow. City of S. The continuous rain poured outside the window, causing a sudden drop in temperature. The atmosphere inside the room was also incredibly tense. "Worthless!!" The man in the wheelchair appeared sullen, smashing the glass in front of him on the floor, shattering it into pieces. "How dare you act on your own without listening to my arrangement," His voice was low and icy. "Not only did you waste such a good opportunity, but you’re also likely to expose me prematurely. Unforgivable!!" The gloomy aura emanating from him almost merged into the thick darkness outside the window. Expose his location?! "Sir," The middle-aged man with a scar on his eyebrow narrowed his eyes and frowned. "Mr. Luna knows nothing except for that cancelled number. As for those assassins, I have already destroyed all the people and accounts related to them," He lowered his voice, continuing. "Even if Sinclair asks again and again, besides the vague location named S City, he won’t get any useful information." "You underestimate Sinclair," The man rolled his wheelchair to the window, watching the gloomy rain curtain while speaking, his voice strained to an extreme. "Knowing his nature, it won’t be long before he turns the whole of S City upside down," His pupils, hidden behind gold-rimmed glasses, were filled with a chilling coldness. "It’s not impossible for him to uncover everything and find us." Upon hearing this, the middle-aged man with a scar on his brow was taken aback. "Sir, why don’t we return to New York and reconsider our options?" "Just returned to New York, how could we leave empty-handed?" The man in the wheelchair, toying with a divine mercy bead bracelet, spoke out coldly. "His grandpa’s birthday banquet is approaching, let’s head back to the capital." The ruthlessness in his eyes and the warmth emitted by the divine mercy bracelet formed a striking contrast. "After all, the most dangerous place often proves to be the safest." Moreover. He and some old friends haven’t seen each other for a long time. The middle-aged man with a scar on his brow looked worried, yet he also knew of his master’s temperament. "Yes." Looking out of the window at the increasingly dense curtain of rain, the man in the wheelchair gripped his aching leg. Sinclair. Every rainy day, I suffer from unbearable pain in my leg throughout the night. But thankfully, you can’t sleep peacefully either. Thinking of Sinclair’s inability to cope with rainy days, a pathological smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, and his eyes darkened into a wild and insidious glint. Unfortunately, he was bound to be disappointed. At the time, in the Luther Residence. When the night fell, everything quieted down, leaving only the sound of the drizzling rain. It was mysteriously chilling. But one room was filled with warmth. "Camilla," Sinclair looked down at the woman beneath him. His narrow, ink-black eyes filled with deep understanding and tension, and his voice had grown hoarse to the extreme. "You will be the death of me." His slender fingers forcibly interlaced with Camilla’s. The thought of growing crazily in his heart made his virginal self-control and calm completely disappear. Like an exiled immortal being pulled off his pedestal, he was lost in the mortal world. It was she who was life-threatening! Camilla clenched her lips, her sweaty little face under the lamp seemed even more crystal clear. She stared at Sinclair in annoyance, but couldn’t speak. Her whole person, floating, sinking. The sound of rain outside the window was gradually replaced by another sound. Not until the night receded did everything gradually quiet down. Sinclair held the already sound asleep woman in his arms and slowly closed his eyes. The sound of rain outside the window continued, but his world was peaceful. For the first time, he felt that rainy nights were not so difficult to endure.