Chapter 252: Falling into the trap

Words : 1255 Updated : Oct 11th, 2025

Chapter 252: Falling into the trap The rain gradually faded away. The pitch-black night grew even more obscure and murky. In the capital city, where towering buildings cast looming shadows, darkness thickened like ink. Porter Family Manor, living room. *Crack!* A teacup shattered, scalding liquid splashing onto grandpa Porter’s robes. The searing pain made his brows knit tightly. "Grandpa!" A servant gasped in alarm, immediately grabbing tissues to rush forward and wipe him down. "Leave it," grandpa Porter waved a hand to stop them, his expression grim as he spoke. "All of you, out." "Yes, sir." The servants waiting on either side bowed their heads and swiftly retreated. The spacious living room was now empty except for grandpa Porter, Mr. Porter, and the two men who had come to report earlier. "Loric" Grandpa Porter’s inscrutable gaze fell upon the brawny young man. His aged yet profound face bore an indescribable sternness and gravity. "Still no word from Bryan?" The shattered teacup moments ago had stirred an ominous premonition in his heart. Mr. Porter also turned his eyes toward the man, his expression betraying subtle traces of conflict and unease. On one hand, he feared Bryan might fail to capture Camilla. On the other hand, he dreaded that if Bryan did succeed, Camilla might expose their previous collaboration—especially her demand that he personally kill Sandra. "No," Under their intense scrutiny, the man named Loric pressed his lips together and shook his head. "But Bryan mentioned earlier that the woman has many people with her," he continued in a frosty tone, his features rigid. "They’ve all retreated into the hospital and aren’t making any moves. It’ll take more time to breach their defenses and eliminate them all." "Tell him to speed it up," grandpa Porter commanded, his voice like tempered steel. "He has one hour to finish this—no more." Grandpa Porter gave a slight nod, his face as cold and rigid as if carved from ice. Mr. Porter shifted uneasily in his seat, barely noticeable, before lifting his teacup to mask the anxiety flickering in his eyes. "Understood," Loric bowed his head and immediately retrieved the dedicated communication device to relay grandpa Porter’s orders to Bryan. Meanwhile, inside a speeding car racing toward the capital— "President Luther, Madam," Luke spoke up. "We’ve received an update." He relayed the exact instructions the Porter family had sent to Bryan, reporting them faithfully to Sinclair and Camilla. In the back seat— "Sweetheart," Camilla nestled against Sinclair’s chest, her crimson lips curling into a faint, icy smile. "That old bastard from the Porter family is already starting to panic," Her beautiful eyes curved with amusement, though her soft, sweet voice dripped with frost. "We’ll have to pick up the pace." "Good," Sinclair’s thin lips parted slightly, his narrow eyes glinting with an icy chill that seemed to freeze the very air around him. Speed things up. Send the entire Porter family straight to hell. "Luke," Camilla’s beautiful eyes narrowed, the curve of her lips deepening into a sly smile. "Is everything arranged with Madam Porter?" Luke gave a firm nod. "Just awaiting your command." "Then begin." The Luther Family Estate. "Remember what to say?" Grandpa Luther’s sharp, penetrating gaze fixed on Samson as he spoke in a calm yet chilling tone. His deep voice carried an unmistakable, oppressive authority. The study was thick with suffocating tension. "Yes," Samson nodded repeatedly, his hands trembling as he pulled out his phone and dialed the Porter family’s number. He knew—only by summoning grandpa Porter here would he have a chance to beg grandpa Luther to spare his son’s life. At the Porter residence, the heavy silence in the living room was shattered by the sudden ringing of the phone. All eyes turned toward the sound, each person’s expression unreadable. "Grandpa Porter," a middle-aged man spoke gravely, his gaze fixed on the patriarch seated at the head of the room. "It’s Samson." Samson’s call at this moment mean their plan had succeeded? Mr. Porter’s eyes flickered several times, a blazing intensity igniting in their depths. Grandpa Porter’s gaze was icy and razor-sharp. "Answer it." The middle-aged man gave a slight nod and pressed the answer button. "Mr. Samson—" Samson’s voice crackled through the phone. "Transfer the call to grandpa Porter. There are matters I need to discuss with him personally." The middle-aged man remained silent, lifting his eyes to meet grandpa Porter’s gaze, awaiting his command. Grandpa Porter’s fingers drummed soundlessly against the table, his expression guarded and skeptical. "Apologies, Mr. Samson," The middle-aged man immediately understood the unspoken order. His voice was cold and detached as he replied into the phone. "I have no idea what you’re talking about." Without another word, he ended the call. Disconnected?! Samson’s eyes widened in shock as he turned to Grandpa Luther in panic. "Grandfather, he—" "Still as cautious as ever," Grandpa Luther remarked with complete composure, his inscrutable gaze shifting to Uncle Carlos. "Have the Porter family’s spies outside been contained?" "Yes," Uncle Carlos gave a slight nod. "Ramsey has taken a team to handle them." "Wait," Grandpa Luther nodded, his deep-set eyes exuding an air of absolute control. "He’ll call back once he verifies the situation." "No, that’s not certain," Samson stammered, his face etched with unease. "Should I try calling again?" Grandpa Porter was now his only hope to atone for his mistakes through meritorious service. "Grandpa Luther said to wait," Uncle Carlos replied calmly, his expression unreadable. "Just be patient." When it came to strategy and execution, the old man was leagues ahead of grandpa Porter. The trajectories of the Luther and Porter families spoke volumes. The previous setback had only occurred because trust had left them unprepared. As expected, Grandpa Luther’s prediction came true. Only after confirming that the Luther Family’s ancestral home was entirely under Samson’s control did grandpa Porter have someone return the call. "What is it?" "The plan succeeded, of course I had to share the good news with you, grandpa Porter," Samson said, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white. He struggled to keep his voice steady, his gaze fixed on Grandpa Luther. "From this moment on, everything belonging to the Luther Family’s main bloodline is ours." It actually worked!! Mr. Porter’s eyes widened, excitement flashing across his face. All these years of waiting haven’t been in vain. Grandpa Porter’s eyes narrowed instantly, their inscrutable depths flickering with barely concealed satisfaction. "Indeed." "I owe it all to your guidance, grandpa Porter." Samson’s grip on the phone tightened until his knuckles turned white, his gaze darkening with each passing second. "At the very least, you should come to the Luther Family estate and share in this moment of triumph with me." Go to the Luther estate? Grandpa Porter’s expression darkened, his eyes turning icy and unreadable. Though the main branch of the Luther Family was gone, many from the collateral lines still watched every move in the capital. Samson’s invitation was nothing more than an attempt to use the Porter family’s influence to intimidate them. But now was not the time for complications. "Unnecessary. There will be plenty of opportunities later." His aged voice was detached, revealing nothing of his true thoughts. "Later is later. If you refuse to come now, our cooperation ends here." Samson’s tone hardened, pressing the point as instructed by the Luther Family patriarch. "Everything promised to you before will be forfeited." Silence fell heavily on the other end of the line. When grandpa Porter spoke again, his voice carried a bone-chilling frost.

Chapter 252: Falling into the trap

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