The capital was abuzz with news—Tyler Luther and Sandra Porter were about to announce their engagement.
The Porter family, once a pillar of high society, had become its hottest topic overnight.
The father-daughter duo from the main lineage had turned against each other, their feud escalating into a public spectacle. ...
"Sandra, who’s always acted like she’s too good for anyone but Sinclair—how could she possibly settle for that Luther Family bastard?"
"Maybe... she’s got a thing for substitutes?"
"Wasn’t she already calling herself ’Mrs. Luther?
Guess she’s finally getting her wish."
The elite socialites who’d long been overshadowed by Sandra could barely contain their glee at the news, practically rubbing their hands in delight.
The men, however, focused on a different angle.
"Mr. Porter’s luck has really run dry.
Not only has the Porter family declined under his watch, but even his own daughter turned into a walking disaster."
"If you ask me, the real victim is Grandpa Porter.
After a lifetime of prestige, he’s now stuck cleaning up his descendants’ messes in his twilight years."
"With their foundations shaking, who knows how much longer the Porter family’s ’mighty tree’ can last?"
Meanwhile, inside the porter residence... "Father," Mr. Porter’s face darkened.
"It’s Sandra’s fault—that wretched girl.
You can’t take your anger out on me!"
After all, he was now the head of the Porter family.
Kneeling would be too humiliating.
Besides— His gaze flicked to the butler standing beside the old patriarch, his eyes simmering with displeasure.
Especially with servants watching.
Grandpa Porter picked up the teacup beside him and hurled it straight at Rongsheng.
"Been the family head for what, a few days?
And now you dare disobey me?"
The cup struck Mr. Porter’s chest before shattering on the floor with a sharp crack.
Grandpa Porter, long accustomed to wielding authority, exuded an intimidating aura even in silence.
Now, his fury was downright terrifying. The butler kept his head bowed, feigning complete detachment.
Before Mr. Porter could react, Sandra had already dropped to her knees without hesitation.
Mr. Porter gritted his teeth.
Where was that insolent, rebellious attitude the wretched girl had when she dared to raise a hand against him?
Now she has the nerve to play the obedient daughter?!
Grandpa Porter’s icy gaze swept over Sandra before settling on Mr. Porter.
His grip on his cane tightened visibly, his fury unmistakable.
Under the crushing weight of his father’s glare, Mr. Porter pressed his lips together and finally dropped to his knees.
"The scandal from the birthday banquet hasn’t even died down, and now you’re brawling in a hospital," Grandpa Porter said, his voice trembling with barely restrained rage as he looked between his son and granddaughter.
"Are the two of you determined to drag the Porter family’s name through the mud?!"
Sandra’s face drained of color, turning deathly pale in an instant.
"Father," Mr. Porter pointed accusingly at Sandra, his expression darkening further.
His jaw clenched as he spat out,
"This ungrateful wretch is the one who humiliated us at the banquet.
She’s the one who defied discipline in the hospital—who even struck her own father!
If you’re going to punish anyone, it should be her!"
All these years, his position as head of the Porter family had never felt secure.
If Sandra weren’t his only daughter, he would never have shown such mercy.
Now that this had happened, he was determined to make the most of it—to ensure Sandra would never come close to inheriting the Porter family’s leadership.
In his mind, tangible power and wealth far outweighed the fleeting bonds of family.
Grandfather despised nothing more than those who shirked responsibility when things went wrong.
"Grandfather," Sandra suppressed the mockery in her eyes and spoke softly,
All of this is my fault."
Tyler had been correct.
Her only leverage was Grandfather was the entire Porter family.
Only by playing along with their expectations could she secure everything she desired.
And only by gaining everything could she ensure that certain people...
Sandra’s eyes were rimmed with red as she gazed at the elderly man.
"I know I was wrong," she said, her voice trembling with emotion.
"You can scold me or punish me—I’ll accept it all without complaint."
Her words caught in her throat.
"I just hope... you’ll take care of your health."
Grandpa Porter studied her with sharp, aged eyes, their depths icy and assessing.
He was clearly weighing the sincerity behind her words.
"At least you admit your mistakes," Mr. Porter cut in with a cold snort, seizing the moment she confessed.
"If you hadn’t shamelessly carried on with that illegitimate son of the Luther Family, completely disregarding the occasion, our Porter family wouldn’t have become a laughingstock."
His tone dripped with undisguised blame and disdain.
"Honestly, I don’t know what your mother was thinking all these years, raising you to be such a—"
Before he could finish, grandpa Porter’s expression darkened abruptly, his entire presence radiating a terrifying, oppressive fury.
He rose and strode over to Mr. Porter, raising his hand to deliver a vicious slap.
The sharp sound echoed through the living room.
Mr. Porter’s face snapped to the side, his cheek immediately flushing red and swelling.
Clutching his face, he stared at Grandpa Porter in stunned disbelief.
"Sandra has been raised under my care since childhood, molded by my own hands," grandpa Porter said, his narrowed eyes glinting like honed blades.
"Are you implying *I* failed her?!"
"Dad, you’ve misunderstood—that’s not what I meant at all," Mr. Porter stammered, his throat bobbing nervously under his father’s piercing gaze. His expression stiffened into something wretched.
Sandra watched, the ghost of a cold smirk curling her lips.
For this so-called father, she held nothing but contempt and loathing.
"Spare me your excuses," grandpa Porter snapped.
"You’re staying put at home from now on—no arguments."
Grandpa Porter’s chest heaved violently, his tone leaving no room for argument.
"Not one step outside this house without my permission!"
The Porter family’s direct lineage was under intense scrutiny now.
They couldn’t afford any more negative publicity.
Mr. Porter’s pupils constricted sharply, his body freezing in place.
"Father, how can I not go out?
The company still needs me—"
"The company has gotten along just fine without you all these years," Grandpa Porter retorted with a cold, unpleasant snort.
"A little longer won’t make a difference."
Mr. Porter’s lips trembled as he struggled to form a rebuttal, but no coherent words came out.
The air grew thick with tension.
The butler bowed his head even lower.
Harsh as it was, the truth couldn’t be denied.
Mr. Porter had no talent whatsoever for corporate management.
If not for grandpa Porter holding things together behind the scenes, the Porter family’s situation would be far worse than it already was.
Now, let’s turn our attention to Sandra.
Watching Mr. Porter’s humiliated expression, her eyes gleamed with vindictive satisfaction and icy detachment.
The cold smirk tugging at her lips was barely contained—though from grandpa Porter’s vantage point, it remained completely invisible.
Mr. Porter’s face drained of color as he faced his father’s unyielding stance, his complexion turning ashen in an instant.
The old patriarch settled back into his chair, his gaze shifting to Sandra.
His voice carried the weight of exhaustion.
Though it pained him to admit it, he couldn’t deny the truth: the greatest failure of his life lay in how he’d raised the next generation.
His son was one thing, but now even his most cherished granddaughter—the apple of his eye—had left him utterly disillusioned.
--- Meanwhile, at the Taylor Family Estate...
"This—" Melissa’s eyes widened in shock as she stared at Taylor, her voice trembling with disbelief.
"What are all these?!"