The grand banquet hall fell into abrupt silence.
All eyes were fixed on the commotion atop the elevated platform, brimming with undisguised curiosity.
Gossip was human nature, especially when it involved the notoriously secretive and low-key Luther Family.
Sinclair stared at Jonathan with an expressionless face.
His icy gaze made Jonathan’s body tense involuntarily.
"Driven into this by Sinclair?"
Camilla, who had been about to refuse Grandpa Luther, halted mid-motion.
Her beautiful eyes, sharp as frost, turned toward Jonathan.
"What exactly do you mean by that?"
"Exactly what I said," Jonathan retorted, his brows furrowed in irritation as he glared at Camilla, anger flashing in his eyes.
"Still don’t get it?"
He couldn’t muster even a shred of politeness for this woman.
"Oh, I get it," Camilla narrowed her almond-shaped eyes slightly.
"I just don’t want to believe it."
"Without a shred of evidence, you immediately jump to the vilest conclusions about your own flesh and blood.
Truly father of the year, Mr. Jonathan."
Her tone was deceptively calm, laced with undisguised sarcasm that cut like a knife.
The words seemed to strike a chord, stirring up old memories among the gathered crowd.
Eyes darted toward Jonathan, their expressions ranging from discomfort to open disdain.
Jonathan’s face flushed crimson with rage.
He jabbed a trembling finger at Camilla, teeth clenched so hard his jaw ached.
Grandpa Luther’s voice cracked like a whip, his sharp gaze slicing toward his son.
"Rest assured, grandpa hasn’t lost his wits to the point of being strong-armed into decisions!"
"Father, that’s not what I meant,"
Jonathan backpedaled hastily, though his hands had long curled into white-knuckled fists at his sides.
"I simply believe Luther Family shares shouldn’t fall into an outsider’s hands."
As he spoke, his eyes flickered meaningfully toward the cluster of Luther branch family members in the audience.
"What do you all think?"
Though their individual stakes were small, the Luther conglomerate’s vast empire meant even fractional shares translated to staggering dividends—a fortune none would surrender lightly.
The transfer of shares meant the transfer of decision-making power, which could very well impact the interests of these individuals.
He refused to believe they wouldn’t have objections.
But clearly, Jonathan had miscalculated.
The heads of several Luther Family branch lines exchanged glances below the stage, yet all chose to remain silent.
The reason they were even present at Grandpa’s banquet was that they had picked the right side.
Transferring grandpa’s shares to the family head’s wife was no different from transferring them to the family head himself.
For them, it made little difference.
The only change was that they’d now have to show a bit more respect to this lady of the house.
"Camilla is not an outsider," Grandpa Luther said coolly, his tone brooking no argument as he withdrew his gaze.
"She is the granddaughter-in-law I’ve acknowledged, Sinclair’s wife, and the madam of the Luther Family."
His expression was stern, the unyielding aura of a man accustomed to absolute authority radiating from him.
"And let me be clear—I’m not discussing the share transfer with you.
With just those few words, everyone present could feel the commanding presence of a man who had spent a lifetime making decisions.
*Am I even this old man’s real son?* Jonathan’s fists clenched tighter at his sides, veins bulging like angry serpents beneath his skin.
Why did every good thing in this world pass him by?
From the shadows, Tyler’s hands gripped his wheelchair armrests with such force the metal groaned in protest. It seemed dealing with Sinclair alone wouldn’t be enough.
As long as that old fossil still drew breath, none of them would see a single coin from the Luther Family fortune.
His gaze locked onto the patriarch standing on the dais, eyes glinting with murderous intent sharp enough to draw blood.
Meanwhile, in the second-floor VIP lounge...
Grandpa Porter’s teacup hovered frozen near his lips as he absorbed the scene unfolding below.
Was Grandpa Luther’s unusual favor toward this Rodriguez girl truly just about Sinclair’s condition?
His aged yet razor-sharp eyes narrowed thoughtfully.
Or... was there some deeper, hidden reason at play? On the elevated platform...
"Grandfather," Camilla held the stock transfer agreement in her hand, preparing to return it to Grandpa Luther.
"I can’t accept this..."
Her words were abruptly cut off by the man’s icy voice.
"Camilla," Sinclair wrapped an arm around her slender waist, his strikingly handsome face softening with warmth.
"If Grandpa wants you to have it, then take it."
Once the old man made a decision, he never changed his mind.
Even if Camilla refused, he’d find a way to make sure she accepted it.
"Sinclair is right, Camilla," Grandpa Luther observed the pair with a satisfied smile and nodded.
"When an elder gives a gift, it’s impolite to decline.
Just accept it with gratitude."
Had it been anything else, she wouldn’t have hesitated.
But twenty percent of the Luther Corporation’s shares?
She knew exactly how significant that was.
The weight of the document in her hands felt almost scorching. Camilla frowned slightly, still uneasy.
There’s no need for ’buts’," Sinclair’s dark eyes narrowed slightly, seeing right through Camilla’s hesitation.
The entire Luther Family belongs to you—let alone just the Luther Corporation."
A warm sweetness bloomed in Camilla’s heart, but she also knew that with both Grandpa Luther and Sinclair speaking so firmly, she couldn’t refuse any longer.
At the very least, she couldn’t keep rejecting them in front of everyone.
"Then I’ll accept it for now.
She made a mental note to speak with Grandpa Luther privately after the birthday banquet. *
The entire Luther Family belongs to you—let alone just the Luther Corporation.*
Sinclair’s voice, neither too loud nor too soft, carried clearly across the banquet hall.
Not a single word of love was spoken, yet every syllable seemed to drip with devotion.
The guests turned their gazes toward Camilla, their expressions a mix of envy, jealousy, and awe.
"Grandpa Luther and President Luther’s stance says everything about Madam Luther’s status."
"Just what did this Miss Rodriguez do in her past life—save the entire galaxy?"
"I’m tired of even saying the word ’envy’ at this point."
"Who knows what kind of tricks this woman has up her sleeve to make a man like President Luther willingly bend the knee for her?" ...
Sandra watched the departing figures of Sinclair and Camilla, her eyes burning with jealousy and venom.
Her once-beautiful face twisted into something ugly, all grace gone in an instant.
Fine. Before the plan unfolds, I’ll put that little upstart in her place first.
She’d make sure everyone knew—that cheap hussy was nothing but a brainless flirt, a pretty face with nothing to offer.
With that thought, Sandra took a step forward. Suddenly, a figure blocked her path.
"Sandra—" Melissa had been keeping an eye on Sandra. Naturally, she hadn’t missed the murderous glare Sandra had just shot at Camilla.
"What?" Sandra turned a cold gaze on Melissa, her red lips curling into a sneer.
"I—" Melissa faltered, discomfort flashing across her face, her eyes tinged with guilt.
"I wasn’t avoiding you on purpose, it’s just that..." "Save your breath.
Sandra was in no mood for Melissa’s excuses.
Her initial approach toward Melissa had never been about friendship.
The truth was, this woman was naive—too sheltered, too trusting.
Extracting information about Sinclair from her had been effortless.
The original plan had been to use Melissa as a pawn against Camilla.
But after just one meeting with Camilla, Melissa had started dodging her—subtly, but unmistakably.
That was why Sandra had to adjust her strategy.
Yet Melissa stood firm, blocking her path.
"Melissa," Sandra narrowed her eyes, voice sharp with impatience.
"What’s your game now?"