CHAPTER 491: PHONE CALL FROM TIFFANY. TELLING HER THE GOOD NEWS

Though Camilla had no idea what Sinclair was up to, she didn’t press for details since he chose not to explain.

Still, she couldn’t help but feel uneasy and added softly, "Be careful."

A faint smirk tugged at Sinclair’s lips.

"Got it."

The moment he left, Melissa visibly relaxed, slumping back into the sofa with an envious sigh.

"Camilla, you and Sinclair are even sweeter than the romance dramas I binge-watch!"

"Sweeter?"

Camilla settled beside her, raising an amused eyebrow.

"Then why were you so tense earlier?"

"To be precise, it wasn’t tension—it was straight-up fear," Melissa grumbled. "You have no idea, Camilla.

When we were kids, I could get away with annoying anyone—except Sinclair.

Crossing him always ended badly for me."

Recalling her tragic past, she let out a heavy sigh.

"It left me traumatized.

Just the sight of him makes my blood run cold." Hearing this, Camilla couldn’t help but chuckle.

"Camilla, don’t laugh at me," Melissa pouted her rosy lips, her almond-shaped eyes brimming with innocence and grievance.

"Aside from you and my brother, who isn’t terrified of Sinclair?"

Suddenly, a thought struck her.

"Take Tiffany for example—she’s even more scared of him than I am."

As she spoke, a hint of smugness flickered in Melissa’s eyes.

The pot calling the kettle black.

For the first time, Camilla truly grasped the meaning of this saying.

The amusement in her eyes was impossible to suppress.

Just then, her phone buzzed on the table. Picking it up, Camilla’s smile widened.

"It’s Fanny." Speak of the devil.

Camilla answered the video call, and Tiffany’s fair, delicate face appeared on the screen.

"Camilla, I was just working on my draft and didn’t check my phone," she said with a playful grin, her eyes crinkling.

"What’s up, sweetheart? Miss me?"

"Of course," Camilla replied without hesitation.

"Missed you so much I can’t even eat or drink properly."

Tiffany had been joking and wasn’t surprised by her friend’s response.

But just as she was about to say something else, she suddenly noticed something and leaned closer to the camera, scrutinizing the screen.

"Wait a minute, Camilla," she said, her teasing tone fading into seriousness.

"Your face really does look thinner.

Tell me honestly—did something happen?"

Seeing the genuine concern on her friend’s face, a mischievous glint flickered in Camilla’s eyes. She lowered her head, her lashes casting faint shadows.

"You noticed?"

"Of course I noticed!"

Tiffany’s voice grew urgent when Camilla didn’t answer directly.

"Your face was already tiny to begin with, and now it’s practically disappearing.

What’s going on?"

"Actually, there is something," Seeing her best friend’s anxious expression, Camilla couldn’t bear to tease her any longer.

Tiffany stared at Camilla, her brows tightly knitted as she waited for her to continue.

Just as Calvin walked into the office, he caught sight of his girlfriend practically glued to the computer screen.

Calvin placed the drink he was carrying beside Tiffany’s hand.

Glancing up, he noticed Camilla on the other end of the video call.

Tiffany was completely absorbed, her eyes filled with concern as she watched Camilla.

She didn’t even notice the drink beside her—let alone Calvin’s arrival.

Even after practically tying her to my office so we can be together all the time, I still can’t compete with this woman.

* A wry smile tugged at Calvin’s lips as he settled back into his desk chair and picked up the contract lying in front of him.

"Fanny," Camilla met Tiffany’s serious gaze and spoke softly, enunciating each word.

"I. Am. Pregnant."

What—?

Tiffany’s beautiful eyes widened, unblinking as she stared in shock.

Pregnant?

She’s pregnant?!

"Camilla, hold on a second," she managed to say after what felt like an eternity, her voice trembling slightly.

Instead of responding immediately, she began frantically searching around her.

Calvin’s gaze was drawn to Tiffany’s sudden movements.

Even on the video call, Camilla’s eyes mirrored the same surprise.

"Fanny, what are you looking for?"

Camilla asked, her voice laced with concern.

"My phone," Tiffany replied distractedly, glancing briefly at the screen before continuing her search.

"I need to check today’s date."

Meanwhile, Melissa lounged on the other side of the sofa, hugging a cushion as she silently chuckled to herself.

Tiffany’s reaction was almost identical to her own when she first heard the news.

To put it simply—it was like surprise knocking on the door, only to find an even bigger surprise waiting inside.

But honestly, she couldn’t help feeling a twinge of envy.

Now that’s what real friendship looks like. Before looking at her again, Melissa’s mind flashed with a face, and his mood inexplicably darkened.

"Don’t worry, Fanny. It’s not April Fools’ Day, and I’m not lying to you," Camilla understood Tiffany’s implication, her eyes deepening with warmth. When she spoke again, her tone carried a note of solemnity.

"It’s been over a month now."

Tiffany froze mid-motion, her hands pausing in their search. When she looked back at Camilla, tears welled uncontrollably in her eyes.

"That’s wonderful, Camilla—"

Her voice trembled with joy.

"I’m so, so happy for you."

From now on, Camilla would have a true flesh-and-blood family of her own!

Before meeting Sinclair, Fanny had been the light she clung to for survival.

Camilla gazed at Tiffany, warmth flooding her chest as her own eyes shimmered with unshed tears. After confirming the pregnancy, she had wanted to tell Fanny immediately.

But with the time difference between E Country and San Francisco, and Fanny’s fragile health, she couldn’t bear to disturb her rest.

That’s why she had deliberately waited until noon today.

"Alright, Fanny, this is good news. Don’t cry anymore," Camilla spoke softly, watching as Tiffany’s tears fell harder.

"If you keep crying, your eyes will swell. Calvin might think I bullied you and come after me—that wouldn’t be good."

Tiffany couldn’t help but laugh through her tears at her friend’s teasing, grabbing a few tissues to dab at the corners of her eyes.

"Calvin wouldn’t dare!"

Calvin, the man in question, heard this and let out a silent, resigned chuckle. Calvin truly wouldn’t.

The woman before him was his treasure, and the one across from her belonged to Sinclair.

Calvin couldn’t afford to offend either.

At Tiffany’s seemingly petulant words, Camilla felt a weight lift from her chest.

She knew better than anyone how timid Fanny could be in matters of the heart.

For her to say those two words without hesitation meant Calvin had given her enough security.

That was good.

"Camilla," Tiffany’s emotions gradually settled, her eyes—still glistening with moisture—now sparkling with warmth.

"When are you coming back?"

She couldn’t wait to see Camilla right this moment. Camilla shook her head gently.

"Still can’t be certain yet."

She had no intention of leaving until she received news about her grandfather.

If Camilla chose to stay in Country E, there must be a good reason for it.

Besides, with the formidable Mr. Luther there as well, there was nothing to worry about.

Tiffany didn’t press further and instead grinned playfully

. "I’m calling dibs on being the baby’s godmother!"

The bond between her and Camilla had long transcended friendship—it was practically family.

Naturally, she would cherish Camilla’s child as her own.

"No need to call dibs," Camilla replied, her eyes crinkling with amusement as she gave her friend a meaningful look.

"That spot’s already reserved for you."

She added with a teasing smile,

"You’ve got less than nine months to prepare a proper welcome gift for the little one back in San Francisco."

"Don’t you worry," Tiffany winked, her face alight with irrepressible joy.

"I’ll definitely give the baby a gift he’ll remember for a lifetime!!"

A memorable gift right at birth? Camilla’s crimson lips curved slightly.

Do all writers have such unconventional thinking?

They chatted a while longer until hotel staff wheeled in the evening gown airlifted from San Francisco, prompting them to end the call.

Meanwhile, in the hotel lobby...

"Don’t worry," Vicente tapped his cigarette as he got straight to the point with Sinclair.

"With me here, no one’s getting into this hotel."

Exhaling a plume of smoke, Sinclair narrowed his dark eyes and responded calmly, "Much obliged."

"You’re Taylor’s friend, which makes you mine too," Vicente continued, the cigarette now dangling from his lips.

"But as a friend, I should warn you—"

Vincent flicked his lighter open, tilting his head to light the cigarette as pale gray smoke curled upward in delicate wisps.

"Thomas family is different from other families—they rose from the underworld.

Especially the current head, Mr. Thomas.

Calvin has no moral boundaries and plays dirty. You need to be careful when dealing with him."

"Thanks for the warning.

However—" Sinclair’s lips curved slightly as he spoke in an unhurried, indifferent tone

. "—my relationship with Thomas family is strictly business."

Business?

Vicente raised an eyebrow.

But seeing the unshakable determination in Sinclair’s dark eyes, he decided against saying anything more.

Finishing his cigarette, Sinclair turned and walked away.

Half an hour later.

A black Maybach rolled to a smooth stop outside Thomas family villa.

The guards at the gate immediately tensed and approached.

"Who goes there?"

Meanwhile, in the study.

Mr. Thomas sat behind his desk, his expression grim as he massaged his temples.

Though he remained silent, the oppressive aura radiating from him was palpable. Suddenly, the sound of footsteps broke the tense silence.

"Sir."

The butler entered, his posture deferential yet uneasy.

Mr. Thomas lifted his gaze, his brows furrowing deeply as he fixed the man with a piercing stare, waiting for him to continue.

But the news the butler delivered wasn’t what he had hoped to hear.

"There’s a visitor requesting an audience."

Impatience flashed across Mr. Thomas’s face, undisguised and sharp.

"Turn them away.

Tell them to get lost."

Mr. Thomas had neither the mood nor the patience for social niceties right now.

Yet the butler hesitated, lingering in place.

"But—"

"What?"

Mr. Thomas’s eyes narrowed dangerously, his expression darkening like gathering storm clouds.

"Are you suddenly hard of hearing?"

"No, sir," the butler replied, swallowing hard before pressing on.

"It’s just... the visitor claims to be from San Francisco—and says he’s the very person you’re looking for."