Rebirth Swapped Bride; Married to the Ruthless Cursed Billionaire
Chapter 101: I will help you look for Tyler

Chapter 101: I will help you look for Tyler

"Rusty, yet still effortlessly outplaying her?"

The words were a blatant slap to her face!

Sandra stared at Camilla’s breathtakingly beautiful features, her fury reaching its peak as her own face twisted unconsciously with rage.

"You little—"

Before she could finish, an aged voice cut her off.

"Sandra, now you understand there’s always someone better, don’t you?"

Grandpa Porter chided his granddaughter, though his tone dripped with indulgence and resignation.

"At least you meant well.

Your Grandpa Luther won’t laugh at you for it."

Without giving Sandra a chance to respond, he turned to Grandpa Luther with a chuckle.

"Right, Grandpa Luther?"

Sandra’s senses had already been reeled back in by her grandfather’s intervention.

The resentment in her eyes had vanished, replaced now by an obedient, demure expression as she gazed at Grandpa Luther.

"Of course not," Grandpa Luther replied smoothly, nodding with composure—though the smile never quite reached his eyes.

Starting today, he had a new plan for dealing with the Porter family.

That old man from the Porter family was truly a sly fox.

Camilla curled her lips slightly. With just a few words, he had blurred the true nature of the matter.

But when someone was determined to act foolishly, there was no stopping them. Her beautiful eyes narrowed as she gazed at Sandra.

The surprise she had prepared for the Porter family was yet to come.

At some point, Sinclair’s tall, elegant figure had appeared beside Camilla, his arm wrapping around her waist.

The guests exchanged knowing glances.

With Grandpa Porter stepping in to ease the tension, the matter could only end here.

Sure enough, the two elders soon returned to the second floor, chatting and laughing as if nothing had happened.

The atmosphere in the banquet hall grew lively once more.

Glasses in hand, guests mingled and exchanged pleasantries.

Around Sinclair and Camilla, the crowd surged, gradually separating the two.

After all, the social circles of men and women were different.

A group of socialites surrounded Camilla, chatting animatedly about the music that had just played.

Camilla maintained a faint smile throughout, neither overly warm nor noticeably distant. In contrast, Sandra stood alone, with few people by her side.

After all, everyone had noticed she hadn’t given up on Sinclair, and that gave them pause.

Yet Sandra seemed utterly indifferent.

Her gaze remained fixed on Camilla, who had already downed several glasses of wine, her cheeks now tinged with a delicate flush. Sandra’s fingers tightened around her own glass, her knuckles turning white.

The drug should be taking effect soon. Sure enough, before long— "

Excuse me," Camilla suddenly pressed a hand to her temple, frowning slightly as she addressed the group.

"I’m feeling a bit unwell and need to rest in the back.

Please, enjoy yourselves."

Without waiting for a response, she turned and strode toward the lounge.

A closer look would reveal her steps were far more hurried than usual.

The gathered ladies exchanged bewildered glances.

"Mrs. Luther seemed perfectly fine just a moment ago—what could have happened so suddenly?"

"Her face is so red, maybe she’s had too much to drink."

"Or she could just be exhausted."

"Personally, I think she just doesn’t want to deal with us anymore." ...

Meanwhile, on the other side of the room.

Sinclair, surrounded by the crowd, hadn’t even noticed Camilla’s departure.

Perfect!

The show she had been preparing for so long was about to begin!

Sandra watched Camilla’s retreating figure, the corners of her lips curling into a smirk.

She had ordered someone to sprinkle the powder onto Camilla’s gown—colorless, odorless, and completely undetectable to the naked eye.

But when combined with alcohol, its toxicity would fully activate.

In just a few short minutes, Camilla’s actions would spiral beyond her control.

No matter how skilled she was in medicine, she wouldn’t have time to react.

Sandra took a sip of her wine, her eyes glinting with dark triumph.

Just then, a hand landed on her shoulder.

"Sandra."

Margaret’s voice came from behind. Sandra’s heart skipped a beat in surprise, and she abruptly tore her gaze away from Sinclair.

"What is it?"

Caught off guard, the flicker of disgust in her eyes wasn’t well concealed.

Margaret noticed it immediately.

The warm, kindly smile on her face stiffened for a split second before quickly smoothing back into place.

"I just wanted to ask if you’ve seen Tyler.

That boy seems to have disappeared somewhere."

"Why would I know where he—" Sandra frowned mid-sentence, then suddenly remembered the time Tyler had mentioned earlier.

"I’ll help you look for him."

Camilla would soon become the laughingstock of high society.

She wouldn’t be sitting in the position of Mrs. Luther for much longer.

Before that happened, she needed to settle things with Tyler once and for all.

"Alright."

Margaret’s smile remained warm and affectionate, as if she hadn’t noticed the shift in Sandra’s demeanor at all.

"Then I’ll leave it to you."

Sandra didn’t respond.

She set down her wine glass and walked away.

Watching her retreating figure, Margaret’s smile faded.

If it weren’t for the Porter family’s influence, she would never have allowed Tyler to get involved with such a foolish woman.

Sinclair stood nearby, holding his glass with an icy gaze fixed on the two of them, as if observing insignificant insects.

The coldness in his eyes sent chills down one’s spine.

Margaret reluctantly averted her eyes, only to meet Sinclair’s fathomless dark stare from across the room.

Though his expression revealed nothing, there was an unsettling sense that he could see right through her.

Her heart pounded under his scrutiny, but she forced herself to appear composed, taking a sip of wine before joining a circle of chattering socialites.

"Mrs. Margaret, we were just talking about you," one of the elegantly dressed women remarked as Margaret approached.

The others exchanged knowing glances.

"Oh?" Margaret replied, feigning nonchalance as she subtly glanced toward where Sinclair stood.

"What were you saying?"

At least that piercing gaze was no longer on her.

"That you’re truly blessed," One of the ladies in emerald-green evening gowns smiled gracefully.

"With such an outstanding son and daughter-in-law as President Luther and Madam Luther, the rest of us can only dream of being so fortunate."

It was common knowledge that Sinclair maintained an icy indifference toward Jonathan and Margaret.

The remark, dripping with false praise, was clearly a veiled jab.

Margaret’s expression stiffened almost imperceptibly.

"Why does Madam Margaret seem displeased?"

Another socialite feigned confusion, her brows knitting in exaggerated concern.

"Surely you don’t object to us praising President Luther and his wife?"

"We’re all family," Margaret forced a smile, swallowing the fury simmering beneath her composed facade.

"The more accomplished they are, the prouder I am. How could I possibly be unhappy?"

Before the ladies could respond, she smoothly excused herself.

"If you’ll pardon me, I must attend to other distinguished guests."

As Margaret retreated, the women exchanged knowing glances, their lips curling into smug smiles.

After all, they were all legitimate wives—women married through proper alliances, with all the dignity their status demanded.

Women like Margaret, who manipulate their way into snatching other people’s husbands and use illegitimate children to climb the social ladder, were naturally despised from the bottom of their hearts.

Previously, they hadn’t dared to speak up, uncertain of Grandpa Luther’s stance.

But now—things were different.

*A bunch of shameless gossips, acting like they’re so much better than me?*

Margaret clenched her teeth so hard she nearly tasted blood, her chest burning with fury.

*Just wait until Tyler takes back the Luther Family from that bastard Sinclair. You’ll regret this!*

Meanwhile, in the guest lounge.

Sandra and the Porter family properties.

Tyler toyed with the USB drive in his hand, a sinister smirk playing on his lips.

*Soon, it’ll all be mine.* Just then, a knock sounded at the door.

*She followed me this quickly?*

Surprise flickered across Tyler’s face before realization dawned.

*Seems this woman really can’t wait to cut ties with me.

* He wheeled his chair to the door and opened it, only for his welcoming smile to freeze instantly.

"Sandra— Wait, it’s you?!"

"Who else were you expecting?"

The woman standing before him arched a delicate brow, her dimpled smile radiating saccharine sweetness.

"Sandra?"

At the mention of that name, Tyler’s pupils contracted sharply.

Just how much did this woman know?