Chapter 115: The relationship between the Luther and Porter families has ended

Chapter 115: The relationship between the Luther and Porter families has ended The engagement hasn’t been finalized yet!! Margaret’s expression turned anxious as she tried to step forward. Tyler s brows furrowed slightly, and with an almost imperceptible shake of his head, he stopped her. Though the exact date for the engagement hadn’t been set, it was practically a done deal. He didn’t want any commotion at this moment that might draw Camilla’s attention. After all, this woman knew every detail of their plans. "Grandpa Luther, we’ll take our leave as well. We’ll visit again another day." Calvin and Taylor rose one after another, bidding farewell to the elder before departing. Today’s spectacle had been thoroughly entertaining. The vast meeting hall was now left with only the Luther Family members. Jonathan and the other two inexplicably felt a sense of unease, keeping their heads down to avoid notice. "Grandfather, it’s getting late, and you’ve had a long day," Camilla turned to Grandpa Luther, speaking up first. "You’ve had a long day. Let Sinclair and I take you back to the old house to rest first." Sinclair maintained his usual composed demeanor, perfectly content to follow his wife’s arrangements. After everything that had happened today, Grandpa Luther had been tense for hours and was genuinely exhausted. He smiled and nodded without hesitation. "Alright." As he spoke, he began to rise from his seat. Uncle Carlos, knowing the old man had been sitting for too long and his legs must be stiff, immediately stepped forward. "Let me help you." "Uncle Carlos," But Camilla was already on her feet, gently supporting Grandpa Luther’s arm before the butler could reach him. "I’ll help Grandpa." The old man’s unwavering kindness had touched her deeply, filling her with warmth. The sudden emptiness in his arms made Sinclair narrow his sharp, dark eyes, his displeasure written plainly across his face. Grandpa Luther had been about to wave her off. "My health is still sturdy enough, no need to—" But the moment he caught sight of his grandson’s expression, he abruptly changed his mind and his tone. "Though these old bones aren’t what they used to be, I could use a steadying hand. Camilla is always so thoughtful." No sooner had the words left his mouth than Sinclair’s expression darkened visibly. Grandpa Luther felt a surge of satisfaction. Getting a rise out of that stubborn boy wasn’t easy. "Father," Jonathan spoke cautiously, his gaze fixed on the old man. "Let me take you back." He had to seize every chance to mend their strained relationship. Otherwise, he might wake up one day to find the Luther Family fortune slipping through his fingers. That strong dose of anti-inflammatory powder? Camilla caught the medicinal scent wafting from Jonathan and couldn’t help the amused glint in her eyes. Seems Ramsey was right—the old man hadn’t held back. "No need," Grandpa Luther’s earlier good mood evaporated at the sight of his son, his smile fading. "You’d be better off figuring out how that incident in the lounge happened in the first place." As he spoke, his deep-set eyes flickered with hidden meaning as they settled on Margaret and Tyler. "Don’t raise a tiger only to be devoured by it in the end—without even knowing why." Sandra had grown up under his watch. No matter how you looked at it, she would never have taken a liking to Tyler. For things to have escalated this way, someone must have pulled strings behind the scenes. He knew it. Grandpa Porter knew it too. But without proof, the Porter family had no choice but to let it go. Otherwise, this matter would never have been settled so easily. All this time, he had underestimated the audacity of these two. Margaret and Tyler froze at the old man’s words, their breath hitching, their limbs turning to ice. They stiffened, heads bowed low, feigning ignorance. Fortunately, Grandpa Luther didn’t press further. With that, he strode toward the door. Noticing Sinclair hadn’t moved, Camilla turned to him. "Sweetheart?" Finally remembered him, did she? Sinclair rose from the couch with an air of detached indifference. His steps halted abruptly when he came face-to-face with Tyler. Lifting his head, Tyler met those piercing, almond-shaped dark eyes—eyes that radiated an almost suffocating dominance. An invisible weight crushed down on him instantly. A chill crawled up his spine as cold sweat trickled down his back. Jonathan and Margaret tensed, their wary gazes locked onto Sinclair, bracing themselves for another outburst of violence against Tyler. But their fears went unrealized. Sinclair merely stood there, tall and imposing like a crane among sparrows, his expression frosty. His merciless eyes bore into Tyler as though observing an insignificant insect. "Ambitious, I’ll give you that. Pity your skills don’t measure up." His tone was so casually dismissive, it didn’t even deign to mock. Fury and humiliation churned in Tyler’s chest, yet under that glacial stare, he couldn’t so much as twitch. Those fleeting seconds stretched into an eternity—he felt as if an invisible hand had seized his throat, choking the life out of him. Then, just as suddenly, Sinclair averted his gaze and strode past him with long, unhurried steps. Only then did Tyler gasp for air, his body sagging weakly against the wheelchair as he panted. Jonathan rushed to his side in an instant. "You two," Jonathan’s voice was low and heavy as he spoke. "Have you been keeping something from me?" Meanwhile, outside the door, Beside a stretch Lincoln limousine, Sinclair opened the passenger door, only to find Camilla already seated in the back with Grandpa Luther in the spacious business-class seats. "Sweetheart," Camilla looked at Sinclair, her eyes crinkling into crescents. "There are still a few things I need to discuss with Grandpa." Today was his grand birthday celebration, yet so much had gone awry—she couldn’t shake off her unease. As for Sinclair, she could always coax him later tonight. Grandpa Luther observed the darkening expression on his grandson’s face and smiled knowingly, saying nothing. Faced with Camilla’s gaze, Sinclair merely furrowed his brows slightly, his expression otherwise unreadable. But the father-son duo of Uncle Carlos, trailing behind, could clearly sense the icy, restless aura radiating from him. "You stay here and wait for Mr. Sinclair’s instructions. I’ll take the car behind us." Before the words had fully left his mouth, Uncle Carlos strode toward the rear vehicle without so much as a backward glance. Ramsey’s lips twitched involuntarily. Ah, the mountain of fatherly love... had just come crashing down in a landslide. "I’m exhausted—can’t drive either," Sinclair tossed the car keys to Ramsey behind him before bending gracefully into the plush business-class seat beside Camilla. "Ramsey, let’s go." Noticing a faint trace of petulance flicker across Sinclair’s strikingly handsome face, Camilla’s smile deepened. She reached out, slipping her hand into his broad palm with deliberate tenderness. A smirk tugged at Sinclair’s lips, the icy glint in his eyes softening noticeably. Grandpa Luther, ever the opportunist, seized the moment to needle his grandson. "Pathetic." Sinclair met the jab with a cool, unreadable stare. Anticipating potential friction, Camilla deftly interceded. "I’ve brought something for you," She retrieved an emerald-green brocade box from her bag and offered it to the old man. "See if it suits your taste."