Rebirth Swapped Bride; Married to the Ruthless Cursed Billionaire
Chapter 102: What on earth happened here?

Chapter 102: What on earth happened here?

"What Sandra?"

Tyler’s heart sank like a stone as he took in Camilla and the squad of mercenaries behind her.

"I was just resting here," he said through gritted teeth, forcing down the panic rising in his chest.

His voice was icy.

"I have no idea what you’re talking about."

He frowned, his expression hardening.

"More importantly, what are you doing barging into my room uninvited?"

"What am I doing?"

A cold smile curled Camilla’s lips, her sweet voice laced with frost.

"Don’t worry," she said softly.

"You’ll find out soon enough."

Before Tyler could react, she turned to the mercenaries behind her.

"Tie him up."

"Yes, ma’am."

Two mercenaries stepped forward, ropes in hand, their faces grim as they advanced toward Tyler.

"How dare you?!" Tyler’s face twisted in fury as he glared at the approaching men.

"I’m the second son of the Luther Family! You’re just hired to help—" His words were abruptly cut off as a hand clamped over his mouth.

"Mmph— mmph!" Camilla stepped past Tyler and entered the room.

The faint, cloying sweetness in the air made her pause. Her sharp eyes flickered with icy disdain as they landed on the scented diffuser by the entrance.

"Tch.

Cheap tricks again," she murmured, her crimson lips curling in derision.

"I have to admit, you and Sandra really are a match made in hell."

Better to keep trash like them together—spare the world the trouble.

Tyler’s eyes widened in shock as Camilla instantly pinpointed the tampered diffuser.

But she didn’t even spare him a second glance before turning away.

"Bring him in," she said coolly.

"Sandra should be arriving soon."

Sure enough. Not long after they left, Sandra’s silhouette appeared outside the lounge.

She scanned the hallway cautiously, then knocked—only after confirming no one was around.

She found the door slightly ajar, unlocked.

Without hesitation, she pushed it open and stepped inside.

Tyler sat with his back to her by the balcony.

"Where is it?" Sandra’s voice was sharp with impatience as she frowned.

Tyler didn’t answer, only shifting slightly in his seat. "What’s this about?"

She strode toward him, her tone hardening.

"You think you can use those things to blackmail me? Listen, if you dare try anything,

I swear I’ll make you—" Her words died in her throat.

It was Tyler, alright—but his hands and feet were bound tightly in front of him, his mouth gagged.

Only his eyes flickered rapidly, as if desperately trying to communicate something.

Sandra wasn’t stupid. Something was very, very wrong.

She didn’t bother untying him. Instead, she spun on her heel and bolted for the door.

But the moment she took a step, her legs gave way beneath her.

She crumpled to the floor, her mind plunging into darkness.

Several figures emerged from the restroom nearby.

Camilla’s crimson lips curled into a faint smirk. She hadn’t been reborn just to become someone else’s stepping stone this time.

If anyone tried to push her into the abyss, she’d drag them down first.

Sandra, enjoy the consequences you’ve orchestrated for yourself.

The banquet was nearing its end.

"Where’s Tyler?"

Jonathan scanned the hall with a furrowed brow.

"The event’s almost over—why haven’t we seen him?"

Margaret silently calculated the timing, a cold glint flashing in her eyes.

Yes, it was about time.

"He said he was going to rest in the back for a while.

I’ll have someone fetch him." Jonathan nodded.

After everything that had happened today, he

needed to go home and strategize carefully.

Margaret gestured to a waiter, instructing him to find Tyler in the guest lounge.

On the other hand, Grandpa Porter was also sending people to look for Sandra, preparing to leave.

Sinclair took in everything with a cold, calculating gaze.

He raised his glass and drained it in one swift motion.

His dark eyes were filled with an unshakable chill, enough to send shivers down anyone’s spine.

The net was closing.

Before long, a flustered attendant hurried over to Jonathan and Margaret.

"Mr. Jonathan, Mrs. Margaret," the attendant began, his voice tense.

"The door to the room where Mr. Tyler was staying locked from the inside.

No matter how much we knocked, there was no response.

Fearing something might be wrong, we had to break it down."

He hesitated then, his expression turning awkward.

"And... and we found..."

"Found what?!"

Jonathan snapped, his brows furrowed in irritation.

"Spit it out already!"

Margaret, meanwhile, paled with worry.

"Could it be...?"

"Has something happened to Tyler?"

"Not exactly," the waiter stammered, his face twisted in discomfort as he struggled to find the right words.

"You’d better see for yourself."

Jonathan and Margaret exchanged a sharp glance before setting down their wine glasses without another word.

Following the waiter, they strode briskly toward the guest lounge, their hurried movements drawing curious glances from the surrounding crowd.

"What’s all the fuss about now?"

A few society ladies who had just exited the lounge turned on their heels, drawn back by the unfolding drama.

After all, a spectacle like this didn’t come along every day.

"Mr. Jonathan, Mrs. Margaret," the waiter murmured, stopping outside the private lounge reserved for Tyler.

He kept his head bowed as he added,

"This is the place." Jonathan raised his hand and knocked firmly on the door.

"Tyler, open up."

There was no response from inside, not even the faintest sound of movement.

"Jonathan," Margaret called out urgently, her peripheral vision catching sight of several figures approaching behind them.

"We’re his parents—nothing here should be off-limits to us.

Let’s just go in," she insisted.

"Right," Jonathan agreed, twisting the doorknob.

The door swung open with a soft click.

As they stepped inside, the scene before them made Margaret gasp sharply, her hand flying to her mouth in shock.

"This—" Margaret covered her mouth in shock as she took in the scene before her.

"What on earth happened?"

No one noticed the icy glint of triumph that flickered deep in her eyes.

Their plan had succeeded!

Jonathan stood rigid, his lips pressed into a thin line, his expression dark with impending fury.

The couple’s reactions only heightened the curiosity of the high-society ladies behind them.

After exchanging glances, they too stepped into the room.

The attendant at the door kept his head bowed, feigning ignorance.

Clothes were strewn haphazardly across the carpet, and the air was thick with an unmistakable, lingering intimacy.

On the bed, two figures lay entwined in a deep, oblivious embrace.

The events that had unfolded in this room were all too obvious.

The ladies gasped in scandalized disbelief, their brows knitting in disapproval.

"Oh my God!!"

"Grandpa Luther’s birthday banquet hasn’t even ended, and the second son of grandpa Luther couldn’t wait—how utterly disgraceful."

"Ah, youth is meant for wild oats. We old folks can’t possibly understand the ways of the young." "Who is that girl? And why does that dress on the floor look so familiar?"

The words dripped with sarcasm.

Jonathan’s temple throbbed visibly, his face darkening like the bottom of a scorched pot.

At the commotion, the two figures on the bed stirred—clearly about to wake.

"This is a private matter of the Luther Family," Jonathan turned, his expression stormy as he glared at the noblewomen.

"Get out!"

The harsh tone made the high-society ladies stiffen, their faces twisting in displeasure.

Before they could retort, Jonathan’s voice cut through again, icy and sharp.

"Still not leaving?!"

These women were no small figures themselves—had it been Grandpa Luther or Sinclair speaking, they wouldn’t have dared a word of protest.

But against the disgraced Jonathan?

Their hesitation barely lasted a second.

As he walked out, he couldn’t resist throwing out sarcastic remarks.

"If you’ve got the guts to do it, why can’t you take the criticism?"

"No wonder Grandpa Luther looks down on his second son—his behavior is downright disgraceful."

"As the saying goes, ’Like father, like son.’ Wonder who he takes after?"

Margaret had anticipated this reaction, but her face still darkened with discomfort.

The moment the door closed, it shut out the prying eyes outside.

"Useless brat!"

Jonathan’s rage finally erupted. He strode forward and kicked the blanket viciously.

"You’ve humiliated me beyond measure! Get the hell up now!"

This was supposed to be Tyler’s grand debut—his first formal introduction to high society under Jonathan’s wing.

And now? The disgrace would fall squarely on Jonathan’s shoulders.

Not to mention, the old man would surely hit the roof when he found out.

"Jonathan, calm down," Margaret rushed to restrain him, genuine concern flashing in her eyes.

"Don’t forget, Tyler is still injured."

They wouldn’t have resorted to this if they had any other choice.

"Injured and still capable of doing something like this?

Seems like he wasn’t hurt badly enough," Jonathan sneered, the veins on his forehead and the back of his hands bulging with anger.

"Had I known, I might as well have broken his legs—would’ve saved us the trouble."

Margaret said nothing more, her gaze shifting toward the bed.

"Tyler, aren’t you going to get up and explain yourself to your father?"

"What’s there to explain when you’ve already seen it with your own eyes?"

Jonathan lashed out again, delivering another kick to Tyler’s body through the blanket.

"Keep pretending to be dead, and I’ll beat you to death for real!"

The pain in his body and the furious roar in his ears jolted Tyler awake.

Struggling to prop himself up, he looked at Margaret and Jonathan, his mind still foggy.

"Dad, Mom... why are you here?

What’s going on?" "What’s going on? You have the nerve to ask?"

Jonathan’s face was twisted with rage.

"What the hell are you doing leaving the birthday banquet early? And who’s that woman beside you?!"

Margaret remained silent, her gaze fixed meaningfully on Tyler.

The woman beside him?

Tyler froze, then turned his head.

Sandra’s face came into view.

His eyes widened in shock as full awareness crashed back into him.

Everything that had happened earlier flashed through his mind.

"No, it wasn’t me—this isn’t what it looks like!"

He hadn’t been the one with Sandra at all!

Margaret noticed Tyler’s reaction was far from what they had planned, and a flicker of confusion passed through her eyes.

Just then.

Sandra’s lashes fluttered, and her eyes flew open.

"Tyler?!"

Her shriek pierced the air at the same moment Jonathan’s pupils contracted in disbelief.

The one fooling around with Tyler in this room... was Sandra?!

At that very second, the door swung open from the outside.