Chapter 91: No Invitation, No Entry except for Mrs. Camilla Luther

Chapter 91: No Invitation, No Entry except for Mrs. Camilla Luther "Haha," grandpa Porter chuckled with a knowing nod. "Grandpa Luther must be worried this old man would dampen you youngsters’ spirits," he said, casting a glance at Sandra. "I’ll head upstairs first then. Let Sandra keep you company—you young folks surely have more in common." Calvin and Taylor responded with polite nods. Uncle Carlos supported grandpa Porter as they made their way upstairs. Naturally, this scene didn’t escape the notice of the gathered guests. In terms of age, status, and seniority, grandpa Porter was second only to Grandpa Luther at this gathering. Moreover, the Luther and Porter families had always maintained close ties. It was only reasonable for grandpa Porter to be personally escorted to the second floor. No one dared voice any objection. "Miss Sandra," Taylor raised his glass slightly, his face still wearing that polite yet distant smile. "Excuse me for a moment." Calvin also lifted his hand in acknowledgment, his peach-blossom eyes narrowing with a faint upward curve. "Talk later." Grandpa Porter’s intentions were crystal clear. However, neither of them had the slightest interest in Sandra—a woman as arrogant as she was capricious. This needed to be made unmistakably clear through action to avoid any unnecessary misunderstandings. "Of course," Sandra replied with a perfectly composed smile, nodding gracefully. Only after the two men had walked away did the warmth in her eyes gradually freeze over. Though she looked down on Taylor and Calvin, their blatant aloofness still pricked her pride. Lowering her lashes, she scoffed inwardly. Once she became Mrs. Luther, she wondered what expressions these two would wear in her presence. Oh, how she looked forward to that. Speaking of which—where was Melissa? Sandra frowned, scanning the crowd for Melissa’s figure. A group of well-dressed young men, glasses in hand, began making their way toward her. "Miss Porter, your reputation precedes you." "Miss Porter, your elegance outshines every woman in this room." "Miss Porter,I heard you’ve already started managing the Porter Group? Truly impressive!" Flattery was an art. Though she knew their words were mere compliments, Sandra couldn’t help but feel a flicker of satisfaction. Her red lips curved slightly as she responded with practiced grace. The Porter family was one of the most prominent clans in the capital, and Sandra was its sole heir. It was only a matter of time before the family’s empire fell into her hands. In other words, winning Sandra meant gaining the full backing of the Porter family. A temptation that was immense was impossible to resist. Before, everyone in the capital knew Sandra had her heart set on the heir of the Luther Family. With the likelihood of a union between the porter and Luther Families, no one dared make a move. But now—things were different. Sandra was constantly surrounded by a bevy of promising young men. At this moment, she was undoubtedly the center of attention in the banquet hall. Naturally, Sandra herself reveled in this feeling of being adored by all. Many high-society young ladies could barely conceal their displeasure. They secretly seethed Sandra’s ability to steal the spotlight but could do nothing about it. Melissa, however, breathed a sigh of relief. The busier Sandra was, the better—that way, she wouldn’t have time to target Camilla. Meanwhile, at the entrance of the mountain villa... " Not allowed in?" Jonathan glared at the bodyguard blocking his path, his expression darkening to the extreme. "Open your damn eyes and see who I am!" Margaret and Tyler, pale-faced in his wheelchair, were equally furious. They had rushed here despite their injuries, all for the sake of their plan. Yet now, they couldn’t even step foot inside the villa. "And you are?" The stern-faced bodyguard widened his eyes as instructed, scrutinizing Jonathan carefully. "I don’t know you." "You!" Jonathan’s breath grew ragged with anger at the bodyguard’s words. "You blind fool!" For decades, he had been welcomed as an honored guest wherever he went. Never before had he been stopped at the door by mere security—let alone at a banquet hosted by the Luther Family itself. "I am Jonathan Luther," he said, his face darkening as he glared at the guard. "Grandpa Luther is my father." "Since when do I need an invitation to attend my own family’s event?" "Ah, so you’re Chairman Sinclair’s father—Mr. Jonathan." The bodyguard immediately bowed in deference, his expression apologetic. "My deepest apologies, sir. I failed to recognize someone of your standing." "Now that you know who I am," Jonathan said coldly, his eyes sharp with disdain, "get out of my way." "Consider yourself fired today!" With a frosty expression, he motioned for Margaret and Tyler to follow him inside. "Hold it!" The bodyguard extended his arm again, blocking their path. "My apologies, Mr. Jonathan, but you still can’t enter," he said respectfully, though his tone remained firm and unyielding. "President Luther’s orders were clear—no one gets in without an invitation, except for Mrs. Camilla Luther." He deliberately emphasized the last few words, making it obvious that "no one" included the three of them. No one without an invitation could enter... except Camilla? That ungrateful brat! He *would* get in today, no matter what! Jonathan, seething with rage, swung his hand toward the bodyguard’s face. "Get out of my way!!" *Slap.* The bodyguard stood his ground, taking the slap without flinching. "Mr. Jonathan, I’m just following orders," he said, his cheek already swelling, yet his expression remained unreadable. "Even if you beat me to death, it won’t change anything." His defiance was unmistakable. "You—" Veins bulged on Jonathan’s neck and the back of his hands, his fury barely contained. But there was nothing he could do. At an event like this, he couldn’t possibly kill a man in front of everyone. The commotion outside had drawn the attention of many, including Taylor, Calvin, and even Sandra, who was surrounded by the crowd. From a distance and under the dim lighting, none could clearly make out the faces of the three figures. "Are those three trying to sneak in?" "Who dares to cause trouble on the Luther Family’s turf?" "Bold move, I’ll give them that." "Color me curious—who on earth would be so reckless?" ... Damn it! That little bastard Sinclair must be deliberately keeping them waiting here to humiliate them in public!! Margaret’s eyes burned with fury as she noticed the gazes directed their way from the banquet hall not far off. Her hands clenched into tight fists at her sides, nails digging deep into her palms. Tyler’s face, already pale from pain, darkened to an alarming degree. He’d planned to make his grand debut before these people in perfect condition. Yet here he was—reduced to this utterly humiliating spectacle. Sinclair... I’ll make you pay for this!! "Dad, stop wasting words with this gatekeeper," Tyler muttered through gritted teeth, casting a glance toward the banquet hall. " Just call Grandfather directly. Surely he won’t deny us entry." He was convinced this entire farce was orchestrated by Sinclair behind the old man’s back. Meanwhile, in the third-floor room of the manor... A strikingly handsome man in an obsidian-black suit watched the surveillance feed with amusement, his thin lips curling into a smirk as he observed the trio’s expressions.