Chapter 111: Your Stance represents the Luther Family’s Stance

Words : 1099 Updated : Sep 28th, 2025

Chapter 111: Your Stance represents the Luther Family’s Stance "You—!!" Grandpa Porter choked on his fury at Camilla’s merciless words, his jaw clenched tight. "With elders present here, even if Sandra has done something wrong, it’s not your place to discipline her!" The dark rage in his eyes was almost palpable. "Camilla, you’ve gone too far—showing no respect for your superiors!" "Exactly!" Sandra, finally catching her breath, struggled weakly. "Who do you think you are, Camilla, to—" With a sharp press of her foot against a pressure point on Sandra’s body, Camilla silenced her. "Ah—!!" A wave of excruciating pain shot through Sandra’s limbs, leaving her completely paralyzed. "If I truly had no respect for my elders," Camilla’s crimson lips curled into a chilling smile, "I would’ve killed Sandra outright." Her voice dripped with icy disdain. "Instead, I’m wasting my time reasoning with you." Reason with her? Sinclair’s lips twitched involuntarily as he watched Sandra pinned under Camilla’s foot, utterly immobilized. "What?" Grandpa Porter narrowed his eyes at Camilla, his gaze sharp as a blade. "You dare think of killing Sandra?! Who gave you the audacity?" Camilla met the old man’s piercing stare without flinching, her voice steady and deliberate. "Sandra tampered with my gown, then arranged for a stranger to hide in my private dressing room, waiting to assault me when the poison took effect." Her eyes lifted slightly at the corners, her tone laced with icy fury. "Had her plan succeeded, my reputation—and my life—would have been ruined. Sinclair and the entire Luther Family would have become the laughingstock of the capital." She tilted her head, her gaze unyielding. "So tell me, grandpa Porter—who gave her the audacity to do such a thing? Was it you?" Sandra struggled to speak, but the pain left her unable to even lift her head, her throat choked with terror. No sound escaped. Not that anyone noticed. Though Sandra’s scheme had failed, the mere thought of it was enough to stoke Sinclair’s rage. His dark eyes narrowed as he followed Camilla’s gaze toward Sandra. The piercingly cold gaze was like a razor-sharp blade, threatening to slice its target into a thousand pieces, severing flesh from bone. "You—" grandpa Porter’s pupils dilated abruptly before constricting into pinpricks. "What nonsense are you spouting?!" Camilla’s words struck like thunder, leaving everyone except Sinclair visibly shaken. A single glance at Sinclair and Camilla’s expressions told Grandpa Luther that her accusation held weight. His gaze toward grandpa Porter plummeted into an icy abyss. The veins bulging on his forehead and the back of his hands betrayed his barely contained fury. "Whether I’m spouting nonsense or not," Camilla’s lips curved in the same chilling smile, her expression devoid of warmth, "you’ll find out soon enough." She turned to Ramsey. "Bring them in—both the men and that item." "Yes, Madam!" Ramsey shot grandpa Porter a fleeting glance before nodding to the mercenaries stationed at the door. Within moments, four half-dead men and a champagne-colored evening gown were ushered into the room. When Tyler’s eyes fell upon the four men, his pupils contracted slightly. These were the very men Camilla had allowed into the room—the ones who had slept with Sandra right before his eyes. So, Sandra had hired them herself, intending to use them against Camilla. Only four? Margaret narrowed her eyes, a flicker of disappointment flashing in their depths. Sandra’s methods might have been crude, but they were undeniably ruthless. If only she had succeeded—what a satisfying outcome that would have been. "These are the men Miss Sandra arranged to be in my lounge," Camilla said, her crimson lips curling into a frosty smile. "They’ve already confessed everything." She tilted her head slightly, her voice dripping with mock courtesy. "Of course, if the esteemed grandpa Porter doesn’t believe me, he’s welcome to question them himself." No... No!! Sandra’s nails clawed desperately at the floor, her body trembling like prey cornered in its final moments—filled with fury yet powerless to resist. Her eyes burned with rage, but not a single sound escaped her lips. "The words of a few men alone can’t be taken as truth," grandpa Porter muttered through gritted teeth, his fists clenched at his sides, his face ashen. "Perhaps they were bribed by someone with a grudge against the Porter family, deliberately slandering Sandra to drive a wedge between our two families." "Hmph." Camilla let out a cold laugh, cutting off grandpa Porter’s feeble attempt at justification. Her striking eyes flickered toward the entrance. "And what about this man?" Another bloodied man was dragged in—his face miraculously unscathed. It was the bodyguard who had shadowed Sandra for years, practically inseparable from her. That face was familiar to many in the capital, including members of the Luther Family. Grandpa Porter had no room left for denial. The color drained from his face in an instant, his body swaying as if on the verge of collapse. He had always thought his granddaughter was merely stubborn and willful in matters of the heart—never had he imagined she could be so recklessly foolish. "Scheming against the Madame of the Luther Family—no, against the entire Luther Family—" Grandpa Luther’s teacup shattered violently against the floor. "Grandpa Porter, your granddaughter has some nerve!!" His fury sent a palpable chill through the room. The air in the council hall grew thick, suffocating, as if the very atmosphere had plummeted under the weight of his wrath. "It’s all my fault for failing to properly educate my descendants," Grandpa Porter struggled to maintain his posture, his aged eyes fixed solemnly on Grandpa Luther and the others. His voice trembled with a mixture of shame and desperation. "But she’s the last remaining heir of the Porter family’s main bloodline. Spare her life, and our family is willing to pay any price!!" A faint smirk curled Camilla’s crimson lips. This was exactly what she’d been waiting to hear. Willing to agree to any condition? Tyler arched an eyebrow. Grandpa Porter truly doted on Sandra. It seemed that to secure the Porter family, he would have to focus his efforts on this woman. His gaze shifted to Sandra, who was pinned beneath Camilla’s foot, looking utterly disheveled. An image flashed through his mind—her being toyed with by several men right in front of him. A flicker of disgust crossed his eyes. "Camilla," Grandpa Luther didn’t respond to grandpa Porter immediately. Instead, he turned to Camilla. "You’re the primary victim in this matter. Whether to agree or not is your decision." Though his expression remained stern, his tone softened considerably. "Your stance represents the Luther Family’s stance."

Chapter 111: Your Stance represents the Luther Family’s Stance

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