Chapter 107: Evidence and weaknesses

Chapter 107: Evidence and weaknesses "Sandra" Grandpa Porter fixed his penetrating gaze on Sandra. "Is there any truth to this?" Given his granddaughter’s temperament, she wouldn’t even spare a glance for Margaret, let alone take the initiative to greet an illegitimate son like Tyler. Yet the unwavering certainty in the words of Jonathan and the other two made it hard to dismiss their claims outright. "Grandfather, that’s not what happened—" Sandra’s chest heaved with barely suppressed fury as she glared daggers at Tyler and his companions. "I..." She wanted to explain, but the words stuck in her throat. After all, to any outsider, it would indeed appear that she had approached Tyler first. Margaret lowered her eyes, the misty depths of her gaze concealing a triumphant smirk. *You little wretch. Let’s see you talk your way out of this one.* Grandpa Porter took one look at his granddaughter’s flustered expression and immediately understood the truth of the matter. His anger flared instantly, his sharp, penetrating eyes locking onto Sandra’s with an intensity that could cut glass. Sandra bit her lip hard, her face a picture of wounded innocence as she shook her head in silent denial. "Grandpa Porter, these are merely Tyler’s one-sided claims," Grandpa Luther’s voice was icy and authoritative as he turned his gaze to the servants waiting nearby. "Their veracity remains to be investigated. Which of you were working in the banquet hall?" The banquet hall workers? Five or six servants—men and women alike—stepped forward from the group, their expressions tense as they faced Grandpa Luther. "Is what they’re saying true?" Grandpa Luther narrowed his piercing eyes slightly. "Just speak the truth. If I catch even a single lie, you’ll bear the consequences." Taylor’s lips curved into a faint smile as he grasped the real reason Grandpa Luther had kept these servants here. "Grandpa Luther’s methods," he murmured, "are as shrewd as ever." Some words, when spoken by impartial bystanders, carried far more weight than those from the parties involved. "I—" One of the maids cast a fearful glance at Sandra before speaking up hesitantly. "I did see Miss Porter approach the master and the second young master on her own." As soon as she spoke, two more servants stepped forward to confirm. "I saw it too." "...Me as well." "Shut your mouths!!" Sandra’s face twisted in fury, her fists clenched so tightly her knuckles turned white, as if she were on the verge of exploding. "With so many people in the banquet hall, why the hell were you lowly dogs keeping such a close eye on me?" Her icy glare shifted to Tyler. "I bet you’re all taking orders from this little bastard, deliberately spying on me!" Her eyes suddenly widened, her expression contorting into something almost monstrous. "For all I know, you even helped him set me up!!" Losing it already? Tyler watched Sandra’s hysterical outburst with a cold smirk, not bothering to respond. Every detail of tonight had been meticulously planned. This was exactly the moment he had been waiting for. Sinclair’s inscrutable gaze swept past Tyler, Sandra, and the others before lingering on the shadowy corner not far away. The corner of his lips curled slightly. I wonder if she’s satisfied with how the show’s playing out. If not, he wouldn’t mind adding a little more drama. "Miss Porter, we didn’t—" The maid who had spoken earlier stared at Sandra, her face etched with terror. "You were one of the most striking figures at the banquet, so naturally, we paid more attention to you. That’s all there was to it." Fear made her voice quiver noticeably. "As for what you’re accusing us of—some kind of setup—we have no idea what you’re talking about." Sandra gritted her teeth. "You—!" "Sandra!" Grandpa Porter’s face was taut with barely restrained fury. "Shut your mouth!" Disgraceful. "Damn brat." "Little bastard." Sandra certainly had no qualms about spewing such vulgar insults. Calvin lowered his gaze as he poured himself another cup of tea. Clearly, the Porter family’s upbringing left much to be desired. "I understand," Grandpa Luther said coldly, his gaze fixed on Sandra before he spoke again in a measured tone. "All of you, leave now." "Yes!" Several servants immediately bowed their heads and retreated to their original positions without another word. The others didn’t even dare to breathe too loudly, terrified that they might be the next ones called upon to testify. After all, Sandra’s current expression was downright terrifying. Fortunately, Grandpa Luther changed his approach. "Grandpa Porter," he said solemnly, turning to grandpa Porter, "since Sandra doesn’t trust the people here, I won’t press further with questions. Instead, let’s directly examine the evidence. What do you say?" Evidence? Sandra froze in her seat, her brow furrowing tightly. Aside from her own words, what other evidence could there possibly be?! Although phrased as a question, grandpa Porter knew full well he couldn’t refuse. "Since this happened on the Luther Family’s turf, of course we’ll defer to Grandpa Luther’s arrangements." The subtle emphasis in his words left room for interpretation. Both Calvin and Taylor couldn’t help but smirk in unison. Seems Grandpa Porter was starting to lose his composure. Then again, a woman as foolish yet oblivious as Sandra was impossible to control. No wonder the old man sounded so deflated. Sinclair lifted his gaze, fixing it on grandpa Porter. His slender fingers tapped rhythmically against the table, his expression unreadable. Meeting Sinclair’s stare, grandpa Porter felt an inexplicable weight pressing down on him. When was the last time a mere junior’s gaze had made him feel this suffocated? It seemed the boy’s growth had far surpassed his expectations. "With your word, grandpa Porter, I’m reassured," Grandpa Luther took a sip of tea, his expression unreadable. "To prevent any mishaps, I specifically instructed Sinclair to activate the surveillance system in the manor. The recordings were supposed to be deleted after the banquet," he said, setting down his teacup before turning his gaze toward grandpa Porter and Sandra. "Who would have thought it would come in handy now?" Surveillance?! Sandra’s pupils contracted sharply, her face frozen in shock. High-society banquets were, by nature, private affairs. Media presence was rare, and surveillance systems were almost never in use—an unspoken rule among the elite. It had never crossed her mind that the manor’s surveillance had been running the entire time. Did that mean... every single one of her actions since arriving had been recorded?! Her nails dug deep into her palms, yet she barely registered the pain. The worst part was, from the surveillance footage alone, everyone would assume things had unfolded exactly as Tyler described—that she had been the instigator. But none of it had been her doing! It was all a setup by that vile pair, Tyler and his mother Margaret. How on earth was she supposed to explain this?! Grandpa Porter wasn’t particularly shocked by the surveillance matter, though it did catch him off guard. Rules had always been made for those beneath them. For powerful families like the Luther’s, they’d always operated above the law. Even if every guest at the banquet knew about this, none would dare speak up. Or to be more precise—no one would dare utter a word. However, grandpa Porter’s composure shattered the moment he caught Sandra’s panicked, uneasy expression. A vein pulsed faintly at his temple as an inexplicable sense of foreboding gripped him. Just what had this granddaughter of his been scheming behind his back?! "Sinclair" Grandpa Luther ignored the Porter family’s reactions and turned to Sinclair. "Have your people go to the management office immediately and retrieve the surveillance footage from both the banquet hall and the lounge." "Wait!" Before he could finish, Sandra’s voice rang out—fluted and urgent. All eyes turned to her once again. "The surveillance footage only shows the surface—it proves nothing!" Sandra spat venomously, her gaze locked onto Tyler with barely contained fury. "The real evidence is in that bastard’s room!" Her voice trembled with conviction. "I blacked out the moment I stepped inside—he must have tampered with something in there!" This was her strongest lead, the one detail she clung to. If they could just uncover proof of foul play in that room, everything else would fall into place. "Very well," Grandpa Luther nodded, then turned to Sinclair with a grave expression. "Send more people to search Tyler’s room—thoroughly. Leave no stone unturned." A curt nod. Sinclair’s icy command sliced through the air as he addressed the mercenaries by the door. "You heard Grandpa." His glacial stare then shifted to grandpa Porter, voice dropping to a dangerous timbre. "The Porter family should send their own men to oversee this." Despite herself, Sandra’s gaze flickered toward Sinclair when he spoke—a fleeting, involuntary reaction betraying the tension coiling inside her. How she longed for a word of comfort from Sinclair at this moment. But the man wouldn’t even spare her a glance. It wasn’t fair!! Sandra bit her lip hard, her dark eyes swirling with turbulent emotions. "Since Sinclair has made his stance clear," Grandpa Porter naturally wouldn’t refuse. He turned to the middle-aged man behind him. "Take a few men and accompany them." "Yes," The man nodded promptly and stepped forward. The group swiftly exited the council hall. Taylor began brewing tea with effortless grace, the curling steam veiling his detached gaze. He understood why Sinclair had insisted on Porter’s men tagging along. On one hand, it was to prove the Luther Family had no intention of scheming behind the scenes. On the other, it was to silence any future objections from the Porter family. It seemed everything had been meticulously arranged. The play was about to enter its second act.