Bryan was startled, swiftly reaching out to steady grandpa Porter.
The sudden commotion sent a ripple of shock through the crowd, and all eyes turned toward the scene.
Grandpa’s face had gone deathly pale, his breathing ragged and uneven.
Without hesitation, Bryan barked orders to those nearby, sending someone to fetch the emergency medicine from the car.
Mr. Porter’s expression twisted in alarm as he immediately bolted toward the staircase.
Camilla watched the chaos unfold upstairs, the corners of her lips curling into a faint, knowing smirk.
"He fainted too soon.
The show’s only halfway through."
Mrs. Porter rose from her seat as well—but instead of heading toward her husband, she stormed the stage.
Snatching up decorative props, she hurled them at the massive LED screen with frenzied fury.
The deafening shatter of glass echoed through the hall as the enormous crystal display flickered and died, plunging into darkness.
The entire room stood frozen, jaws slack, utterly stunned by Mrs. Porter’s explosive outburst.
The murmurs in the hall ceased abruptly, plunging the space into absolute silence.
"That little bitch must have pulled some strings."
"It’s definitely her!!"
Sandra remained frozen in place, her face twisted with fury.
Her venomous gaze locked onto Camilla’s position, her entire body trembling with barely contained rage.
She looked ready to charge forward and tear Camilla limb from limb at any moment.
Camilla, however, met Sandra’s glare with serene composure.
A faint smile played at the corners of her eyes, exuding the unmistakable air of a victor.
Though Sandra stood on the elevated platform while Camilla remained below, the power dynamic between them felt completely reversed.
Mrs. Porter clung to her daughter’s arm, her grip tight with apprehension.
"Sandra, don’t do anything rash," she whispered urgently.
"We’ll settle scores with whoever’s responsible after the banquet!"
Just then, Margaret stepped forward onto the platform.
Standing at the center with a stern expression, she addressed the crowd in a cold, measured tone: "Ladies and gentlemen, that video was clearly doctored by someone attempting to frame Sandra and sabotage the alliance between the Luther and Porter families."
"The Luther and Porter families will undoubtedly uncover the mastermind behind this and clear Sandra’s name.
We kindly ask everyone to refrain from baseless speculation and further victimize the injured party."
One had to admit, Margaret knew exactly how to drive her point home.
With just a few words, she had many in the audience frowning in contemplation.
After all, in the capital, there were plenty who had no desire to see the Luther and Porter families united through marriage.
Feeling a slight ease in her chest, Margaret shot Tyler a meaningful glance.
No matter what, the engagement banquet had to proceed.
Understanding immediately, Tyler stepped forward, wrapping an arm around Sandra as he addressed the crowd with measured calm.
"I have full faith in Sandra.
Once this matter is thoroughly investigated, we will make the findings public and provide everyone with a proper explanation."
He paused briefly before continuing, his tone firm yet diplomatic.
"For now, we ask that you honor the Luther and Porter families by joining us for the meal."
His words carried both grace and authority, and though opinions might have varied privately, the guests complied outwardly, dispersing as expected.
Yet the murmurs persisted.
"Grandpa Luther collapsed—could Grandpa Porter be next?"
"These two situations are entirely Grandpa Luther was poisoned, while grandpa Porter was driven to his condition by his own granddaughter."
"Still, I can’t help but wonder—who would dare pull such a stunt at an event hosted by the Luther Family?"
"Let’s keep watching the show.
Some things are beyond our speculation..."
Tyler wrapped his arm around Sandra’s waist. "Let’s check on Grandpa."
But Sandra stood frozen in place, her teeth sinking into her lips so hard they drew blood.
"If you don’t want to lose your position, do as I say,"
Tyler muttered under his breath, his brow furrowed in warning.
"As for Camilla, you can deal with her however you like after the banquet."
Those words reminded Sandra of the backup plan she had arranged, pulling her back from the edge of hysteria.
Clinging to each other, the two began making their way upstairs.
"His fiancée’s covered in men,"
Tiffany smirked, her lips curling in amusement.
"And he’s still acting so composed.
Talk about cuckoldry at its finest."
"Oh, but he’s not the one who’s been cuckolded,"
Camilla replied, taking a slow sip of red wine, her smile faint but knowing.
"It’s the guy at the door."
Tiffany followed Camilla’s gaze and turned to look.
The entrance of the hotel.
Jonathan strode in with bloodshot eyes, veins bulging on his forehead and neck.
His fists were clenched so tightly around something that his knuckles turned white.
The fury radiating from him was almost palpable.
Everyone’s attention snapped toward him.
Instinctively, the crowd parted like the Red Sea, scrambling to avoid the storm brewing in his wake.
Whispers rippled through the onlookers.
"What’s gotten into the Luther Family’s patriarch this time?"
"Look at him—he seems ready to kill."
"Could it be because of Sandra?
Is he furious that she’s tarnished the Luther Family’s reputation as his daughter-in-law?"
If you ask me, he’s here for Margaret."
"A scandal at a high-society engagement party—now that’s something you don’t see every day."
" Tyler, Sandra, and Mrs. Porter halted in their tracks, their expressions a mix of bewilderment as they watched Jonathan storm toward them.
Margaret had never seen him before. A cold dread slithered into her chest.
Could that old witch be up to her tricks again?
Or has Jonathan found out about what we did to his father?
Whatever Jonathan could think of, Tyler had already considered.
A glint flickered in his eyes.
No matter what, the engagement party couldn’t afford another mishap.
Tyler released his hold on Sandra and strode toward Jonathan.
"Dad, what’s gotten into you?"
The word struck Jonathan like a slap across the face.
Rage exploded in his chest.
Jonathan roared, swinging his fist hard into Tyler’s face.
A dull thud echoed as Tyler staggered backward, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.
The sheer force behind the punch was undeniable.
The onlookers gasped, their hearts lurching in shock.
What on earth happened?
How could Jonathan be so cruel to his own son?!
Camilla watched with detached indifference, her crimson lips curling into a faint smirk.
"Sweetheart, do you see this?"