Rebirth Swapped Bride; Married to the Ruthless Cursed Billionaire-Chapter 231: "Losers don’t get the luxury of hatred."

Tap.

Tap.

With slow, deliberate footsteps, a slender and graceful figure entered the room.

The breathtaking beauty of that face sent a sharp pang through Sandra’s eyes. Camilla?

Her eyes widened to their limits, her entire body frozen in place.

Her lips trembled slightly as she forced out the words.

"You—how are you here?"

That wretched woman should have already met a gruesome end at the hands of those desperate criminals!

How could this plan—known only to her—have failed yet again?!

"Rather than why I’m here," Camilla’s lips curled into a cold, mocking smile as if she could read Sandra’s thoughts.

"You’d rather ask why I’m still alive, wouldn’t you?"

Her tone was calm, yet it carried an inexplicable chill that seeped into the bones. Did Camilla know that those assassins had been sent by her?

How could this be?! Sandra’s pupils trembled slightly as she bit her lip hard.

Though she thought she’d masked it well, everyone present had keenly noticed her panic.

"Madam Luther,"

Mr. Porter frowned, his expression ingratiating as he looked at Camilla.

"What has this useless troublemaker done now to offend you?"

"What has she done?"

Camilla’s beautiful eyes held a meaningful glint as she regarded Mr. Porter, her casual tone belying the weight behind her words.

"That’s a question better suited for your daughter, Mr. Porter"

As she spoke, she gracefully took a seat on the prepared chair, her gaze coolly sweeping over the father-daughter pair before her.

She had no intention of letting Sandra meet a swift end.

A flicker of understanding passed through Mr. Porter’s eyes as he instantly grasped Camilla’s implication.

"Speak!

What idiotic thing have you done now?"

He turned and strode toward Sandra, raising his hand before delivering a stinging slap across her face.

"Are you trying to drag the entire Porter family down with you?!"

The sharp sound of a slap echoed through the empty room.

Sandra was already slumped on the floor.

The force of the blow sent her sprawling, her cheek scraping against the rough ground, leaving countless tiny cuts.

She clutched her numb face, her features twisted in pain and fury as her eyes widened in disbelief.

In an instant, everything clicked in her mind—Mr. Porter tying her up, Camilla’s sudden appearance—it all made sense now.

A wave of realization crashed over her, mingling with the sharp sting of pain and the suffocating weight of humiliation.

Her entire body trembled with rage.

"Mr. Porter, have you lost your damn mind?!

You’re actually playing lapdog to this little bitch?!"

Mr. Porter’s eyebrow twitched. "Shut your mouth," he snarled, his anger flaring as the movement tugged at the wound on his other wrist.

"You ungrateful wretch!" With that, he struck her twice more. Sandra’s agonized cries once again filled the warehouse. Well, well.

You really do see something new every day.

Ramsey gazed at the father and daughter before him, his eyes brimming with scorn.

Miss Sandra might be no saint, but her father Mr. Porter was certainly no better.

Camilla, however, wasn’t the least bit surprised. Having lived a second life, she had seen enough of humanity’s ugliness to be disillusioned.

Meanwhile, at the Porter residence.

"Grandpa," Bryan watched as Samson’s figure retreated into the distance, his expression tinged with concern.

"Can we really trust his word?

What if he suddenly changes his mind and reveals your plans to the Luther Family...?"

"Relax.

Samson isn’t a fool," grandpa Porter replied coldly, his gaze fixed on his grandson practicing calligraphy nearby.

"Besides, the Luther Family without their direct lineage is like a house without its pillars."

His inscrutable eyes narrowed slightly, his voice low and chilling.

"Nothing to fear."

True enough.

Bryan nodded, about to say more— Just then, a bodyguard stationed outside hurried in.

"Grandpa" A bodyguard entered the room. "Madam is outside, requesting to see you."

At this hour, her visit could only mean one thing—she was here about the young mistress.

Bryan turned to grandpa Porter, awaiting his instructions.

Grandpa Porter’s gaze drifted toward the door, his eyes turning frosty.

His displeasure was unmistakable—this daughter-in-law had failed to keep her husband in check and had done a poor job raising their daughter.

"Bryan, send her away."

"Yes, sir."

With a nod, Bryan stepped out. Madam Porter paced anxiously outside, her face etched with worry.

The moment she spotted Bryan, she hurried forward.

"Did Father agree to see me?"

"My apologies, Madam," Bryan replied sternly, blocking her path.

"Grandpa is occupied at the moment."

"How may I assist you, madam?"

Busy?

Busy pampering that little bastard?!

Madam Porter’s expression darkened, her hands clenching into tight fists at her sides. Bryan frowned.

"Madam?"

Snapping out of her thoughts, Mrs. Porter composed herself, the icy glint in her eyes vanishing as she turned to him.

"Send someone to find Sandra immediately," she urged, her voice laced with urgency.

"After what happened today, I’m afraid the child might do something reckless in despair."

Of course, that was only part of the reason.

More importantly—

She feared Sandra, in her impulsiveness, might provoke Camilla again and do something irreversible.

Reckless?

If Ms Sandra had even an ounce of shame, she wouldn’t have caused one scandal after another.

Bryan sneered inwardly, though not a trace of it showed on his face.

"My apologies, Madam," he said with a furrowed brow, his tone deliberately hesitant.

"Without grandpa’s approval, I have no authority to mobilize the Porter family’s resources."

As the Porter family’s main body guard and grandpa’s most trusted confidant, Bryan held more sway than even Mr. Porter, grandpa Porter’s own son.

Whether he truly lacked the authority was something Mrs. Porter knew all too well.

"Bryan," she ground out through clenched teeth, struggling to suppress the fury simmering in her eyes.

"I’m begging you—is that not enough?"

"Madam," Bryan shook his head, maintaining his detached, professional demeanor.

"It’s not that I don’t wish to help you, but grandpa is in a rage right now.

There’s truly nothing I can do."

He narrowed his eyes slightly before adding, "If you’re determined to find Ms. Sandra, perhaps you could ask the Mr. Porter for assistance."

This "gentleman" naturally referred to Mr. Porter.

Mrs. Porter’s expression darkened further.

If she had any other choice, she would never have stopped to seek out that despicable man.

Bryan paid no heed to her reaction, giving a slight nod before turning on his heel and retreating back into the study. Realizing she had no other options left, Mrs. Porter clenched her teeth and left, determined to find a way to contact Mr. Porter. ——

"Alright, Mr. Porter," Her crimson lips parted as she spoke coolly.

"If Miss Sandra isn’t willing to talk, then let it be. It doesn’t matter anymore."

"Right."

Only then did Mr. Porter stops, panting heavily from exertion. freeweɓnøvel.com

By now, Sandra’s face was swollen and bruised, her appearance utterly disheveled.

She glared at Camilla with gritted teeth, her eyes burning with a frenzied, razor-sharp hatred.

Her fingers dug into the floor with increasing force, nails snapping without her even noticing.

"Hate?"

Camilla met Sandra’s gaze head-on, rising gracefully and sauntering over with a faint smirk playing on her crimson lips.

"Don’t tell me you’re still in the dark, Miss Sandra?"

She leaned down slowly, her striking eyes gleaming with icy disdain as she enunciated each word with deliberate precision.

"Losers don’t get the luxury of hatred."

Ramsey’s eyes flickered with understanding.

It seemed the lady wasn’t just out for blood—she aimed to crush the spirit as well. Losers don’t get the luxury of hatred?

Sandra’s face twisted into a mask of frenzied rage at Camilla’s words.

With a guttural scream, she lunged forward, throwing her entire weight into the attack.

"You bitch—I’ll kill you!!"