The frost in his aristocratic features was bone-chilling.
"Speak.
What did you do to me?"
In those words, Ramsey's entire body tensed to the breaking point, every hair on his neck standing on end.
Micheal gritted his teeth against the searing pain coursing through him, his gaze locked onto Sinclair's face.
If he was already prepared to die, there was no harm in revealing the truth about the life-bound curse.
But before that—he had to drive a knife straight into Sinclair's heart.
"Camilla knew all along.
Didn't she tell you?"
With great effort, Micheal twisted his lips into a grotesque, venomous smirk.
"Sinclair, seems like she doesn't even trust you completely.
Hahaha—" Outside the Luther Corporation headquarters, a sleek silver Rolls-Royce Phantom pulled to a smooth stop.
Camilla stepped out of the car and walked inside.
The receptionist, having been specially briefed by Ramsey, immediately recognized Camilla and stepped forward to greet her.
"Madam."
