Rebirth Swapped Bride; Married to the Ruthless Cursed Billionaire-Chapter 438: A deal between Taylor and Voilet

"Taylor,"

Voilet turned to face Taylor, her fingers tightening around the folds of her skirt.

"Back then... I really had no choice—"

She bit her lip, her delicate features twisting with visible distress.

There was too much to explain, and her mind raced to piece together the right words, desperate to pour out every ounce of her helplessness at once.

Had she been forced to seduce him for money?

Forced to steal confidential documents from Taylor Corporation?

Forced to discard him like a used rag while he was preparing for their wedding?

Taylor watched her struggle with an unchanging expression, the cold curve of his lips deepening.

"Enough."

His voice was low and indifferent, yet it cut through Voilet like a blade.

"None of it matters anymore. No point wasting time."

"Taylor, I—"

Voilet froze, her words dying in her throat. "Five minutes left. Let’s get back to business," Taylor said with a faint curve at the corner of his lips, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"Miss Violet, if you want my help, you’ll need to give me a convincing reason."

Taylor had already learned from the butler that the child shared no blood relation with him.

Her child with another man—and now she expected him to step in?

Five minutes remained.

Voilet bit her lower lip hard. She knew all too well that despite Taylor’s seemingly amiable demeanor, he was unyielding once his mind was set.

Fifteen minutes meant exactly that—not a second more.

Explaining what happened back then was far less urgent than saving Ace’s life.

Her voice was soft, laced with an unmistakable plea as she spoke slowly.

"Ace has acute lymphoblastic leukemia.

It’s severe.

The doctors made it clear—without a suitable bone marrow transplant, he won’t last six months."

"Is that so?"

Taylor’s eyes narrowed further.

"Truly tragic," he remarked.

The corners of his lips lifted slightly, his clear and mellow voice carrying its usual gentle tone.

"Too bad I’m a businessman who never acts without profit, not some selfless philanthropist."

Voilet’s long, thick lashes trembled faintly as her gaze remained fixed on the man standing mere inches away.

She understood the meaning behind Taylor’s words, and from his perspective, he was right.

Yet, she couldn’t shake the overwhelming sense of estrangement—as if everything familiar had turned foreign, inside and out.

"...I know," Voilet averted her eyes, her throat tightening.

"If you’re willing to save Ace, I’ll give you the name of a mole deeply embedded within the Taylor family."

She had stumbled upon this information while fleeing for her life.

It wasn’t that she hadn’t considered telling him—there just hadn’t been a chance.

Now, unexpectedly, it had become her bargaining chip.

The moment her words left her lips, the air grew utterly still.

A mole hidden deep within the Taylor family?

"I must have underestimated your capabilities, Miss Violet."

Taylor’s smile deepened, the mockery in his eyes growing sharper.

"Deal."

Voilet was about to say something more when the man’s icy tone cut her off.

"Time’s up, Miss Violet.

You may step out now."

His detached voice left no room for argument.

"...Alright."

Her fists clenched tighter as she glanced at Taylor’s indifferent yet handsome face. Without another word, she opened the car door and stepped out.

"Miss Violet, this way, please."

A man waiting nearby gave her a slight nod and opened the door of another car.

"Miss Nora is already inside.

I’ll take you both back."

Exhausted from the ordeal, Voilet had no energy left to dwell on anything else.

She nodded silently and slid into the seat.

Nora studied her friend’s expression.

"Voilet, you two...?"

Did you talk it out?

She left the last part unspoken, mindful of the driver’s presence, but Voilet understood perfectly.

She shook her head slowly, her gaze piercing through the tinted car window to fix on Taylor’s vehicle, her entire being enveloped in an aura of sorrow and desolation.

Nora wore a regretful expression but found herself at a loss for words. Instead, she reached out and gently cradled Voilet’s icy hand in her own palm.

The car glided smoothly away.

Only when Taylor’s car had completely vanished from the rearview mirror did Voilet finally tear her eyes away and turn to Nora.

"Nora," she said softly, "he agreed to save Ace."

Nora’s grip on Voilet’s hand tightened abruptly.

She knew that with Taylor’s resources, finding a bone marrow match for Ace wouldn’t be difficult.

Now that he had given his word, the child’s survival was practically assured.

Yet even as relief surged through her, Nora realized why Voilet hadn’t had the chance to explain things to Taylor.

Her still-swollen face flushed with emotion and guilt.

"Voilet—" Voilet cut her off before she could continue. "Nora, you saved my life.

There’s no need for formalities between us."

With that, she seemed to expend the last of her strength, leaning her forehead against the window and closing her eyes wearily.

Fifteen minutes—that was all it had been.

Yet it was their first moment alone together in all these years.

Meanwhile... "What’s this?"

Calvin arched a brow as he studied Taylor’s expression, his narrow, ink-dark eyes glinting with amusement.

"Reigniting an old flame?"

Though he posed the question, he didn’t actually believe it.

Taylor didn’t spare him a glance. Instead, he lit a cigarette, the tip flaring briefly before he exhaled a slow stream of smoke.

His voice was cool when he finally spoke.

"You’re really starting to sound like a tabloid editor these days."

Calvin knew the jab was aimed at just one word in that sentence. A faint smirk tugged at his thin lips.

"Didn’t get enough earlier.

Feel like moving somewhere else for another round?"

"Yeah."

Taylor’s face was veiled behind a thick haze of grayish smoke, obscuring whatever emotion might have flickered across it.

"Let’s go."

E Country, Hospital.

A team of specialists from various departments stood outside Camilla’s hospital room, holding the freshly printed test results in their hands.

To an outsider, the scene might have suggested a rare and complex case requiring urgent consultation.

Sinclair sat by the bedside, his slender fingers kneading his wife’s calf beneath the hospital gown with just the right amount of pressure.

Despite his usual aloof and aristocratic demeanor, he performed the task with effortless familiarity, as though it were second nature.

Every movement, every glance, radiated sheer adoration.

Camilla reclined comfortably against the pillows, leisurely nibbling on fruit while basking in her husband’s exclusive pampering.

Strangely enough, ever since learning of her pregnancy the day before, her body seemed to have flipped a switch.

What had once been mild pregnancy symptoms now surged forth all at once—especially the morning sickness.

It had gotten so bad that she couldn’t keep anything down, recoiling even the faintest whiff of greasy food.

As a doctor, she found herself helpless against this onslaught.

Thankfully, her appetite for fruit remained intact.