Chapter 240: The necklace does not belong to Sandra

Words : 1278 Updated : Oct 10th, 2025

Chapter 240: The necklace does not belong to Sandra "How could you possibly not know?" Mrs. Porter’s face was a portrait of urgency and suspicion. "You clearly saw Sandra this afternoon!" Mr. Porter’s heart lurched, his head snapping up. How did this woman know he had met Sandra? His gaze turned dark and piercing as he studied Mrs. Porter, searching for any tell in her expression. But her eyes were a storm of emotions—too many to decipher. Swallowing his unease, he lowered his lashes and feigned composure. "If I’d seen Sandra, I would’ve dragged her back to the Porter family for my father to deal with. Why would I stay silent and protect her?" Given Mr. Porter’s temperament, that was exactly how he would have treated Sandra. Which was precisely why his current behavior was all the more suspicious. Seeing that he still refused to admit it, Madam Porter’s eyes darkened. "Then answer me this," she said, lips pressed tight, her slightly reddened eyes boring into him. "Where is the phone you always use?" Cell phone? Mr. Porter’s brows instantly knitted together, his expression darkening further. Only after leaving the warehouse did he realize his phone was left behind in that burned-out abandoned warehouse. The flames had completely engulfed the place by now—there was no retrieving it. But why would his wife specifically bring this up? Coincidence... or did she actually know something? A flicker of something unreadable passed through Mr. Porter’s eyes as he spoke in a guarded tone. "Why do you ask?" "I don’t need you to tell me," Madam Porter retorted, her gaze locked onto him. "That phone—it’s lying in the abandoned warehouse in the suburbs isn’t it?" Abandoned warehouse at the docks. Those few words sent an involuntary shudder through Mr. Porter’s body. His eyes widened with alarm as he stared at her. "What abandoned warehouse? I have no idea what nonsense you’re spouting!" So it was true. Mrs. Porter knew her husband Mr. Porter did all too well—his current demeanor was the telltale sign of a guilty conscience. "You know exactly what I’m talking about," she said, her voice trembling with emotion as she stepped forward and seized him by the collar. "Mr. Porter, where did you take Sandra? Where is she now? Why didn’t you bring her back with you?" Mr. Porter’s face darkened, but he remained silent, his mind racing for an excuse. The longer he stayed quiet, the more Madam Porter’s unease grew. "Answer me, Mr. Porter!" Her voice rose, sharp with desperation. "Where the hell did you take her? Where is she now?" Her grip on his collar tightened, cutting off his breath. The suffocation only fueled his rage. "You crazy woman—let go!" With one hand, he wrenched himself free. With the other, he swung hard. **SMACK!** The sharp crack of the slap echoed through the room as Mrs. Porter was flung backward. Her head struck the edge of the coffee table—blood gushed instantly, staining everything in sight. The maid who came in with tea was so terrified by the scene that she immediately turned and fled. Mrs. Porter clutched the wound on her head, her mind swimming and her face burning with pain. She raised her head and glared venomously at Mr. Porter, her teeth clenched as she spat, "Mr. Porter, if you’ve got the guts, kill me right now..." "You think I won’t?" All of Mr. Porter’s guilt twisted into rage, and a flicker of genuine murderous intent flashed in his eyes. "I’ll fucking kill you right now!" Before the words had even fully left his mouth, he raised his foot and viciously kicked her. "Ah—!" Mrs. Porter couldn’t suppress a cry of pain, her face contorting in agony. But Mr. Porter didn’t stop. After several brutal kicks, he grabbed her throat with his hands. If this woman died, no one would care about Sandra anymore. No one would ever find out about the dockside warehouse. "Ugh—! Mmm—!" Madam Porter’s swollen, blood-streaked face had turned a ghastly shade of purple from suffocation. She thrashed violently, her nails digging deep into Mr. Porter’s wrist like claws. "Ah—!" The moment her fingers scraped over the raw wound where Sandra had bitten off a chunk of his flesh, Mr. Porter hissed in pain, his rage spiraling out of control. "You mother and daughter—utterly revolting!" His grip around her throat tightened mercilessly. "Ugh—" Madam Porter’s eyes rolled back, her hands slacking where they clutched at him. In less than two minutes, she would be dead. This was the horrific scene that greeted grandpa Porter when he arrived, his aged, sunken eyes trembling in shock. Beside him, Bryan and the gathered servants stood frozen in horror. "Porter! What in God’s name are you doing?!" Veins bulged across grandpa Porter’s forehead as he roared, his voice sharp with fury. "Let her go—now!" At the sound of his father’s voice, a flicker of panic flashed in Mr. Porter’s eyes. This woman must die! She can’t be allowed to spout nonsense in front of my father! The thought only made him tighten his grip, pouring every ounce of his strength into it. "Mr. Porter, have you lost your mind?!" "Get over there now!" Grandpa Porter’s expression darkened completely as he watched Mr. Porter’s actions, his face twisted with fury as he turned to Bryan and the others. "Pull him away from her!" Any longer, and this would turn into a real tragedy. "Yes, sir." Bryan gave a curt nod. "All of you, come with me." There was no way he could restrain the master in this state alone. Several men forced Mr. Porter’s hands apart, rescuing Madam Porter just as she teetered on the edge of suffocation. She collapsed weakly to the ground, coughing violently before gasping for air in ragged, desperate breaths. The sickly pallor of her face gradually eased, though the terror lingered in her eyes. Mr. Porter’s expression remained savage, his gaze flickering with something like regret as he stared at Madam Porter. One step short. Just one step away from strangling this woman to death. "What the hell is wrong with you in the middle of the night?" Grandpa Porter strode up to Mr. Porter, his expression icy with fury. Without hesitation, he delivered a stinging slap across Mr. Porter’s face, his voice sharp with rage. "Do you think the Porter family hasn’t been humiliated enough already?" The force of the blow was brutal—Mr. Porter’s cheek instantly swelled, the redness spreading visibly. He pressed a hand to his face, his eyes dark with suppressed resentment, though not a trace of it showed on his surface. "I was wrong." Scandal? The words made Madam Porter stiffen slightly. Her reddened eyes flickered with bitter hatred. Of course. If her father-in-law hadn’t stopped Mr. Porter to save *her*. It was all for the sake of the Porter family’s precious reputation. The only one in this entire household who ever cared about her was her daughter Sandra. "You two—" Grandpa Porter turned his glare toward the servants standing nearby, his voice cutting like frost. "Take Madam back to her room and call for the doctor," came the stern command. "I won’t go back," Madam Porter protested, swallowing her grievances as thoughts of Sandra surfaced. Raising her tear-streaked face to the family patriarch, her voice cracked with desperation. "Father-in-law, Sandra is in Mr. Porter’s clutches." Her bloodshot eyes pleaded silently. "Please make him release her." Sandra with his son? Grandpa Porter’s brows knitted together like storm clouds, his piercing gaze shifting to Mr. Porter with the intensity of a drawn blade. —— Meanwhile, elsewhere. "Madam, we’ve got company—just as you predicted," the attendant whispered urgently.

Chapter 240: The necklace does not belong to Sandra

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