Rebirth Swapped Bride; Married to the Ruthless Cursed Billionaire-Chapter 234: Mr. Jonathan Luther’s Apologies

Luther Family Estate.

Camilla paused outside the living room, hearing the unmistakable fury in Grandpa Luther’s voice.

"Turning this household upside down—for some shameless woman and a bastard child?!"

Grandpa’s words dripped with barely contained rage.

"You useless, bumbling fool!

You’ve disgraced the Luther name beyond repair!"

"Father—"

Jonathan’s voice was low, weighed down with guilt.

"I know I was wrong."

"Wrong?

What good does that do now?!"

Grandpa’s face was etched with disappointment and stern disapproval.

"Can you undo decades of neglect toward Sinclair and his mother?

You’ve been blind—utterly blinded by your own stupidity!"

With a sharp motion, he raised his cane and brought it down hard.

"I ought to beat some sense into you—"

The dull thuds of impact echoed relentlessly through the room.

It didn’t take a genius to guess what was happening inside.

Camilla’s beautiful eyes narrowed slightly as she turned to leave.

But just then— Uncle Carlos, who had been walking briskly, spotted Camilla and immediately halted.

"Madam, you’re back."

Camilla gave a slight nod. Inside the living room, Grandpa Luther heard the commotion at the door and paused, panting heavily from exertion.

"Is that Camilla?

Come in."

"Yes, Grandfather."

At the grandpa’s summons, Camilla naturally couldn’t refuse.

She stepped inside, with Uncle Carlos following closely behind.

The spacious living room was tense. Jonathan knelt on the floor, his face ashen, looking utterly broken.

Grandpa Luther stood nearby, leaning on his cane, his expression cold and stern.

When Camilla entered, a flicker of humiliation flashed in Jonathan’s eyes.

No matter what, he was still her elder.

"Grandfather," Camilla didn’t even spare Jonathan a glance, her worried eyes fixed solely on Grandpa Luther.

"Are you feeling unwell anywhere?"

Though she knew it was unlikely anything serious was wrong, the toxins hadn’t been completely neutralized yet—caution was still necessary.

At the sight of Camilla, grandpa’s expression softened slightly.

"Don’t worry, I’m fine." Camilla nodded and said nothing more.

"Camilla," Jonathan suddenly spoke up, his expression conflicted, his voice hoarse.

"Where... where is Sinclair now?

When will he be back?

I have something to say to him."

Something to say to Sinclair?

What could it be?

Nothing more than remorse and apologies.

Camilla remained silent, her gaze toward Jonathan as cold and detached as ice.

Those two things had an expiration date.

Once the time passed, they would become utterly meaningless.

"How dare you mention Sinclair?"

Grandpa Luther, upon hearing Jonathan’s words, raised his cane and struck him hard again.

"What right do you have to face him?!"

Blow after blow landed, each one filled with the frustration of a father disappointed in his son.

Jonathan winced in pain but clenched his teeth tightly, not daring to make a sound.

Camilla watched coldly, making no move to intervene. If she could, she would have gladly taken a few swings for Sinclair herself.

Uncle Carlos stood silently to the side, head bowed. The only sound in the living room was the dull thud of the cane striking flesh.

Jonathan’s frown deepened, his face growing paler by the second.

Only when Grandpa Luther grew exhausted did he finally stop.

Noticing the weariness on grandpa’s face, Camilla immediately stepped forward, guiding him to a chair and handing him a cup of steaming tea.

Though Grandpa Luther had little appetite for it, he nodded in acknowledgment of her gesture and took a small sip.

His ragged breathing gradually steadied.

His deep, shadowed eyes turned toward Uncle Carlos.

"Well?

Did you get anything out of him?"

"No," Uncle Carlos shook his head, his expression grim and cold.

"Tyler genuinely seems unaware of this matter.

As for Margaret.."

He paused, frowning before continuing,

"No matter how we pressed her, she stubbornly insists that Tyler is the biological son of the Mr. Jonathan" a faint, mocking smile curled at the corners of Camilla’s lips, her delicate yet icy features radiating disdain.

This woman truly wouldn’t admit defeat until faced with undeniable proof.

"I’ll question her myself," Jonathan’s lips were pressed into a tight line, veins bulging on his forehead, his fury barely contained.

"If that bitch dares to keep lying, I’ll strangle her with my own hands—"

His fists clenched, and he shot up from his seat, ready to storm out.

Being cuckolded by his own wife was an unbearable humiliation for any man.

And to endure it for so many years—only to discover that the son he had doted on all this time wasn’t even his own.

The shame burned in Jonathan’s chest like a raging fire.

He wished he could tear Margaret into a thousand pieces right now.

Grandpa Luther slammed his teacup onto the table with a heavy thud, his voice dark with fury.

"Stop right there!"

Though unwilling, Jonathan halted in his tracks.

He turned to face the old man, his eyes burning with suppressed rage and confusion.

"Dad, this is my own business.

Why are you stopping me?"

"Because you’re a fool," Grandpa Luther sneered, his sharp, penetrating gaze cutting into Jonathan like a blade.

"You’ve been deceived by that woman for years without ever noticing anything amiss.

And now you expect her to suddenly tell you the truth?"

His icy, disappointed glare softened slightly as it shifted from Jonathan to Camilla. fгeewёbnoѵel.cσm

"Camilla, I’m old. I don’t have the energy to deal with these matters anymore. I’ll leave this in your hands."

From what had just unfolded, it was clear that his granddaughter-in-law was not someone to be underestimated.

"Your health comes first," Camilla said, understanding his meaning.

She gave a firm nod.

"I’ll handle the rest."

Turning to Uncle Carlos, her voice turned cold.

"Where is she being held?

Take me there now."

"Right away."

Uncle Carlos gave a quick nod and led Camilla toward the backyard.

"Dad—" Watching Camilla and Uncle Carlos walk away, Jonathan’s expression darkened.

"I also—" Before he could finish, Grandpa Luther’s icy voice cut him off.

"You stay right where you are.

Keep kneeling—unless you’d rather leave the Luther Family for good."

At that, Jonathan clenched his fists in silent frustration before reluctantly lowering himself back onto his knees, his face stormy with resentment.

In a dimly lit room at the far end of the backyard, Margaret sat slumped in a corner, her face bruised, her hair disheveled.

The once-glamorous Margret was now a far cry from her former self—broken, pitiful. Serves her right.

A faint smirk curled Camilla’s crimson lips. Margaret flinched at the sound of approaching footsteps, her head snapping up instantly.

When she saw Camilla, her eyes darkened, the fear in their depths deepened further.

She had personally witnessed how this woman dealt with Sandra mercilessly and without hesitation.

"What do you want?"

Margaret clenched her fists discreetly, forcing her voice to remain steady.

"This has nothing to do with you.

Send Jonathan here.

I need to explain things to him."

"How can you say it has nothing to do with me?"

Camilla’s lips curved into a faint, chilling smile, her striking eyes glinting with icy amusement.

"That paternity test report—I was the one who had it delivered to Jonathan."

What?!

Margaret’s pupils contracted sharply.