Time flew by in the blink of an eye, and before anyone knew it, it was already noon the next day.
Today was the day of the Luther Corporation’s stock transfer.
At that moment, in the top-floor conference room of the Luther Group, over a dozen stern-faced, distinguished middle-aged men sat on either side of a long table.
They were the influential heads of several prominent branch families of the Luther family, as well as major shareholders of the vast Luther Corporation.
Any one of them, if named, carried significant weight in their own right.
Their mere presence in the room exuded an overwhelming sense of authority.
The atmosphere in the conference room was icy and tense.
After another round of tea served by the assistants, the slightly portly, stern-faced man at the head of the table checked his watch and frowned.
"Why haven’t Grandpa and the Madam arrived yet?"
A trace of displeasure was evident in his tone.
The tall, lean man to his right narrowed his eyes and chuckled, his smile laced with unspoken meaning.
"After today, we might just drop the last word."
The moment these words were spoken, the expressions of most people in the room darkened visibly.
Grandpa Luther and Sinclair’s ruthless methods and iron resolve were something they had all witnessed firsthand—and felt deeply in their bones.
Otherwise, they wouldn’t have remained so thoroughly subdued all these years, not daring to show even a hint of defiance.
But Camilla, a woman who had married into the Luther Family not long ago, was a different story.
Several of the family heads present recalled her silent, passive demeanor during yesterday’s internal meeting, and their already stern faces twisted further with displeasure.
"Something about this doesn’t sit right with me," a potbellied man seated toward the lower end of the table suddenly remarked, exhaling a slow stream of smoke.
"Wasn’t it said that Sinclair’s health had improved significantly after Camilla married into the family?
How could he suddenly fall critically ill and slip into a coma?"
The room fell dead silent at his words.
The same doubts had crossed everyone’s minds.
But given that this involved the inner affairs of the main family, no one had dared to voice them—until now.
Once the first person broke the ice, the atmosphere shifted.
The attendees exchanged glances, their expressions unreadable, each clearly calculating their next move.
" The man has a point," the lanky man who had spoken earlier finally nodded after a long pause.
"President Luther’s sudden illness is indeed quite unexpected.
Let’s not forget, our mistress of the household possesses extraordinary medical skills."
The last four words were deliberately emphasized, heavy with implication.
Many paused, their thoughts turning in that direction.
"I think you’re overcomplicating things," said a middle-aged man in a dark gray suit, his kindly face creased with a frown.
"Though President Luther has fallen ill, Grandpa is still sharp.
If there were anything suspicious, he would have noticed long before any of us.
Why would he proceed with transferring shares?"
"Exactly," several others chimed in, nodding in agreement.
Though President Luther’s condition remained unclear, grandpa was still present.
The matter hadn’t been settled yet, and none of them wanted to be dragged blindly into this whirlpool.
It wasn’t hard to see that those present had already split into factions.
"Rumor has it the mistress is the granddaughter of Grandpa’s dear friend.
Grandpa holds her in high regard—something that was quite evident during his birthday banquet," murmured a tall, gaunt man with a somber expression.
Knowing grandpa wouldn’t appear at this meeting, he spoke without restraint, his voice low but deliberate.
"Sometimes, those closest to the situation are the blindest.
Even the sharpest minds can overlook deception from those they trust."
"True," someone murmured in agreement.
Santino, his beer belly protruding, took a sip of tea from the cup beside him, his lowered eyes dark with unspoken thoughts.
"Even if something were to happen to President Luther," he said in a measured tone, "Grandpa Luther shouldn’t have handed over Luther Corporation’s shares so casually to Camilla—an outsider."
That single word, "outsider," instantly positioned Camilla against everyone else in the room.
The conference room fell silent once more.
Meanwhile, inside the Rolls-Royce parked in the basement of Luther corporation, Camilla removed the earpiece from her ear and closed the laptop displaying the live feed of the meeting.
Her cool, composed gaze betrayed no emotion.
Between yesterday’s meeting and today’s, she had already narrowed down a few suspects.
She looked up at Ramsey.
"Are the manor and Grandfather’s residence fully secured?"
Their safety was non-negotiable—there was no room for error.
"Rest assured, Madam," Ramsey replied with a solemn nod.
"I’ve personally verified everything.
All arrangements are in place."
Camilla gave a slight nod.
"Whatever thoughts you may harbor, there’s one thing we should all agree on," said the slightly overweight man at the head of the table, exhaling a slow stream of smoke.
His voice was measured, deliberate.
"No matter what happens, the Luther Corporation must always remain in the hands of the Luther Family. That’s non-negotiable."
The others remained silent, but their expressions spoke volumes—nodding subtly, their eyes sharp with agreement.
"Absolutely right," Santino chimed in, his gaze fixed on the empty seat at the head of the table, his tone razor-edged.
"Let’s not kid ourselves.
Every one of us here bears the Luther name. We’ve dedicated years of hard work to safeguarding the family’s legacy.
Surely, that makes us far more reliable than some outsiders—especially a woman."
His words dripped with ambition, bold to the point of recklessness.
Grandpa would be arriving soon.
Has Santino lost his mind?
Many of the Luther Corporation’s shareholders seated around the table stiffened, visibly unnerved by his audacity.
Yet the portly man who had spoken first and the tall, gaunt man with a grim expression showed no surprise.
Their faces remained unreadable, as if they had expected this.
Meanwhile, the middle-aged man with a kindly demeanor studied the group, his brow furrowed in deep contemplation.
Their brazen confidence...
Did it mean something unexpected was about to unfold in today’s meeting?
Jonathan shifted his stance, leaning back in his chair without a word.
Of course, he wasn’t the only one who disagreed.
"That’s not the way to look at it," said a bespectacled middle-aged man seated toward the lower end of the table, his deep-set eyes serious and unwavering.
"Luther Corporation is the life’s work of generations of direct-line heirs.
The shares we hold were granted out of the goodwill of Grandpa and Chairman Sinclair.
All we’ve done is collect dividends year after year."
His gaze swept over the senior figures at the head of the table before he continued,
"Even if grandpa’s decision to transfer shares to the current family matriarch is questionable, there’s no scenario where they should rightfully fall into our hands."
The remark was clearly a pointed jab at Santino.
A few others murmured in agreement—though their support stemmed less from principle and more from the cold realization that their own influence paled in comparison to the other branch families.
Even if grandpa diluted his holdings, they’d never be the beneficiaries.
Better that no one got a windfall than let rivals reap the rewards.
*What a bunch of clueless fools.*
A tall, gaunt man with a stormy expression flickered with disdain before speaking in a voice like ice.
"I can’t say I agree with that..."
The words hung in the air when the conference room door suddenly swung open from outside.
All the hushed, disjointed conversations came to an abrupt halt.
Ramsey entered first, stepping aside with a slight bow.
Every pair of eyes in the room locked onto the doorway.
Camilla strode in with measured steps, her long legs carrying her gracefully forward.
She wore a sleek black professional skirt suit, her waist-length hair loosely pinned up with a simple clip, revealing her slender neck and striking jawline.
The only jewelry she wore was a pair of pearl earrings, yet her beauty was breathtaking—radiant yet understated, exuding an air of effortless composure.
Behind her followed a middle-aged man carrying a briefcase—a familiar face to everyone present.
He was the Luther Family’s exclusive legal counsel.
*Just a pretty face*, several of the middle-aged men at the lower seats sneered inwardly as they watched Camilla.
As much as they disliked her, they couldn’t deny that her looks were flawless.
No wonder she managed to drag Sinclair—a man famously indifferent to women—down from his pedestal.
In the past, whenever the head of the Luther Family and his wife made an appearance, all the Luther branch families would rise to greet them.
And of course, that’s exactly what they had always done.
But today, not a single person moved.
Ramsey watched with cold eyes, sneering inwardly.
*Spineless cowards, the lot of them.*
Yet Camilla seemed utterly unbothered.
With effortless grace, she strode to the head of the conference table and took her seat, crossing her slender, porcelain-smooth legs with an air of unshakable composure.
"My apologies for keeping you waiting."