Rebirth Swapped Bride; Married to the Ruthless Cursed Billionaire-Chapter 248: Let them work into the trap

Mileage Territory.

As time slipped by, darkness completely enveloped the land.

Camilla stood by the floor-to-ceiling window in the meeting hall, her arms crossed.

Her beautiful eyes, veiled with an icy detachment, gazed down below.

"Madam—"

Luke hurried in from outside.

"President Luther and Gerald have successfully left."

"Good."

Camilla gave a slight nod, her delicate features hardening as her eyes grew even colder.

"Withdraw all our forces stationed outside the hospital.

Bring them inside."

No matter the circumstances, she refused to tolerate unnecessary sacrifices.

"Withdraw everyone?"

Luke frowned in confusion.

"But Madam, wouldn’t that tip off the people outside that we’ve discovered?"

"Given the Luther Family’s capabilities, it’d be more suspicious if we hadn’t noticed them by now."

Camilla narrowed her beautiful eyes slightly and spoke in a calm, measured tone.

"The bigger the commotion we make, the sooner they’ll be forced to act."

Her voice dropped, colder and more deliberate.

"There’s still a grand spectacle waiting in the capital.

Neither I nor Sinclair have the patience to waste time with these people."

Luke nodded in understanding.

"By the way, Madam," he added, lowering his voice as he relayed the latest update.

"Grandpa seems to have already caught wind of your visit to Boss.

He’s sent people to inquire about what happened.

Should we continue keeping him in the dark, or...?"

Camilla’s expression remained unfazed.

Grandpa Luther had seen more of the world than she had grains of rice.

If she hadn’t been uncertain about Sinclair’s condition earlier, she wouldn’t have dared to conceal the truth from him in the first place.

But now that Sinclair was safe, there was no point in hiding anything.

"Just tell him the truth," she said decisively.

"Trying too hard to cover things up will only give those with ulterior motives to exploit the situation."

"Understood!"

With a firm nod, Luke turned and left to make the necessary arrangements.

Camilla gazed out the window as the last traces of daylight vanished, her aura darkening along with the encroaching night.

A blood-soaked massacre, unseen by the light of day, was about to unfold.

Luther Family Old Residence, San Francisco.

"At least Camilla is the one who puts my mind at ease," Grandpa Luther remarked, his expression visibly relaxing upon hearing the news that Sinclair was unharmed.

"Otherwise, uncovering the truth about that rascal would’ve cost me endless trouble."

"Mr. Sinclair only kept it from you because he didn’t want you to worry," uncle Carlos chimed in smoothly, long accustomed to the old man’s grumbling about his grandson.

"Keeping me in the dark means I wouldn’t worry?

Don’t you dare defend that brat," Grandpa Luther retorted, shaking his head disapprovingly.

"He’s nowhere near as considerate as Camilla."

"Of course, you’re absolutely right," uncle Carlos conceded with a resigned nod.

"Mr. Sinclair pales in comparison to Mrs. Camilla."

Grandpa Luther finally said nothing more, a smile spreading across his face as he lowered his head to sip his tea.

Uncle Carlos shook his head slightly, thinking to himself,

*Mr. Sinclair, for the sake of the old man’s happiness, I’ll have to apologize to you first.*

"The children are all gone, and this old house feels too quiet," Grandpa Luther murmured, lost in thought.

Suddenly, as if struck by an idea, he set down his teacup and looked at Uncle Carlos.

"Carlos, tomorrow, discreetly sent a car to Camilla and Sinclair estate and bring Carie Ann here to me."

That child was utterly adorable—he couldn’t help but adore her.

The only reason he hadn’t kept her by his side was the fear that he wouldn’t be able to bear letting her go when the time came.

Uncle Carlos nodded with a knowing smile, just about to respond—

At that moment, a figure strode swiftly into the room.

"Grandpa!"

Ramsey stood before Grandpa Luther and Uncle Carlos, his expression graver than ever.

Seeing his demeanor, Uncle Carlos immediately sensed trouble—the ease on his face vanished.

"Ramsey..."

The warmth in Grandpa Luther’s eyes dimmed as well.

His aged yet piercing gaze fixed Ramsey, sharp as a blade.

"What’s going on?"

"Our thermal imaging system shows," Ramsey said in a low, tense voice, "dozens of vehicles approaching the old mansion from the rear mountain."

Dozens of vehicles?

Uncle Carlos’s pupils trembled slightly in shock.

These people really had some nerve!

It seemed the very thing he had dreaded was now unfolding before his eyes.

Grandpa Luther remained composed, his wise eyes narrowing thoughtfully after a brief silence.

"Was the thermal imaging system arranged on Camilla’s orders?"

"Yes," Ramsey nodded.

"Before leaving, Madam was concerned that someone in the capital might pose a threat to you.

She specifically instructed the team to set up the thermal imaging system overnight within a five-kilometer radius—just as a precaution."

Hearing this, Grandpa Luther nodded with deep satisfaction.

"That child is not only filial but also meticulous and thorough in her planning."

Ramsey listened as Grandpa Luther praised his daughter-in-law, and immediately thought of his own boss.

He quickly added, "Before leaving the capital, President Luther also specifically arranged for a team to stay behind and protect Madam—and you—in secret."

Grandpa Luther gave a slight nod but remained silent.

Ramsey: ... *Sir, do you really not see the double standard here?*

Uncle Carlos, long accustomed to Grandpa Luther’s favoritism, cleared his throat and steered the conversation back to business.

"Sir, I’ll dispatch men to deal with them right away."

"No need,"

Grandpa Luther shook his head, his eyes dark and unfathomable.

"Rather than taking the initiative, it’s far easier to let them walk right into the trap."

Porter Residence, Capital City.

"Father,"

Mr. Porter’s voice shattered the silence of the study.

"You summoned me—is there something you need me to do?"

He swallowed hard, his gaze locked onto the elder Porter, searching for any hint of emotion in those inscrutable eyes.

"What’s the matter?"

Grandpa Porter looked up, his expression stern and unyielding.

"Already losing your patience?"

"Of course not," Relieved to find no trace of anger in his father’s eyes, Mr. Porter exhaled subtly before continuing.

"It’s just that there are still matters at the company requiring my attention.

If you have no further instructions, I should get back to work."

As he spoke, he made a move to rise from his seat.

"Company matters, you say?"

Grandpa let out a cold laugh, his piercing eyes brimming with bitter disappointment.

"More like you’ve got some ’business’ to handle at that apartment near the company," grandpa Porter’s voice cut through the air like a blade.

Mr. Porter’s body tensed instantly.

That apartment housed his newest secretary—the one he’d been spending every spare moment with lately.

He’d been so careful.

How the hell did his father find out?!

"Dad, it’s not what you think—" Mr. Porter began, but the old man silenced him with a raised hand.

"Enough.

Save your breath," Grandpa Porter snapped, his piercing gaze boring into his son’s face.

His bushy eyebrows drew together like storm clouds gathering.

"For years, Sandra was the only Porter heir.

A girl."

Grandpa Porter spoke slowly, each word weighted with decades of authority.

"I turned a blind eye to your... extracurricular activities."

His lip curled in distaste.

"But now we have Zamile."

Grandpa’s cane struck the marble floor with a crack that echoed through the study.

"Clean up your act, or I’ll remove you from the family register myself."

Tonight would elevate the Porter family to new heights.

This worthless son might not contribute, but he wouldn’t be permitted to sabotage their ascent either.

Stripped of the Porter name?!

Mr. Porter’s throat went dry.

The threat hung in the air like the scent of gunpowder after a shot.

This was the first time the grandpa had ever laid down such an ironclad ultimatum.

"Yes, Father."

Mr. Porter’s heart skipped a beat.

He hastily withdrew the foot he’d been about to step away with and sank back into his seat.

"Understood."

Meanwhile, hidden behind the bookshelf, Mrs. Porter heard every word of their exchange crystal clear.

So having Sandra means he can fool around as he pleases?

And now that this sudden bastard has appeared, he’s forbidden from philandering?

Her entire body trembled with rage.

She bit down hard on her lower lip to keep from crying out.

All these years—this was how that sanctimonious old hypocrite of the Porter family had treated her and her daughter!

Just then, a stern-faced man in his thirties entered the room.

"Grandpa" He glanced at Mr. Porter and abruptly cut himself off. What was it this time?

Another secret they were keeping from him?

Mr. Porter’s brows knitted tightly together, his eyes flashing with displeasure.

"It’s fine."

Grandpa Porter cast a calm glance at Mr. Porter, his lips pressed into a thin line as he spoke in an even tone.

"Just say it directly."

They were already at the brink.

There was no need to keep hiding certain things any longer.

Only then did Mr. Porter relaxed his furrowed brow.

Hidden inside the bookshelf, Mrs. Porter held her breath, eager to hear whether this had anything to do with Sandra.

"Bryan with his men has already surrounded the Luther Family’s private hospital where Camilla is staying, trapping her inside," the stern-faced man reported with a grave nod, seeing that Grandpa Porter had given his approval.

"But from start to finish, there’s been no sign of Sinclair."

Surround Camilla?!

Mr. Porter’s pupils dilated in shock at the man’s words before narrowing sharply, his face a mask of disbelief.

"What—what do you mean by that?"

The man ignored Mr. Porter’s question, keeping his gaze fixed on Grandpa Porter.

Even Mrs. Porter, concealed within the bookshelf, was stunned.

She clamped a hand tightly over her mouth, not daring to make a sound.

Just what was the Porter family planning?!