Rebirth Swapped Bride; Married to the Ruthless Cursed Billionaire-Chapter 171: Attending Professor Robert birthday party

"Take him away?"

Margaret’s face twisted with venomous rage.

"As long as I’m alive, that bitch can forget about it!"

Blood oozed from where her nails had snapped, but she paid no attention—or perhaps didn’t even notice.

"Have your people tail Jonathan.

Get photos of him with that woman, then sell them to the media through someone inconspicuous."

"Mom."

Tyler frowned at Margaret, his expression darkening instantly.

"My engagement to Sandra is just around the corner.

If Dad gets caught up in some scandal, it’ll be you and me who end up humiliated."

No matter what his mother thought, he absolutely wouldn’t allow this to happen.

"What’s the rush?"

Margaret sneered, pushing herself up from the floor and settling back into her chair.

Her lips curled into a mocking smile as she surveyed the mess before her.

"Say what you will about Jonathan, but he’s still part of the Luther Family’s main bloodline.

No media outlet would dare run a story without grandpa’s approval."

At that, Tyler immediately understood.

"Are you suggesting we get Grandpa to rein in Dad?"

"Not rein in—crush," Margaret replied, her eyes narrowing with venom as a cold, mocking smile curled her lips.

"That old man may despise me, but he’d never favor that woman either," she hissed, each word dripping with malice.

"He would never allow Jonathan to repeat the same mistake he made over twenty years ago and bring scandal upon the Luther Family’s direct lineage."

Tyler frowned, weighing her words carefully.

"That old bastard plays hardball.

No matter how much Jonathan adores her, it won’t matter," Margaret clenched her fists until her knuckles whitened, her voice dropping to a seething whisper.

"And as for that woman—once she’s stripped of Jonathan’s protection, I’ll make sure she learns what true suffering feels like!"

Camilla stared at the screen, her delicate face hardened with icy resolve.

Lost in thought, she barely noticed Sinclair’s movements had stilled—until a pale, elegant hand plucked the earpiece from her ear.

A deep, amused voice murmured beside her,

"That fascinating, huh?"

Realizing Margaret had nothing more of value to say, Camilla promptly shut off the tablet.

"To be honest, it’s just mediocre,"

She turned her head to gaze at Sinclair’s strikingly handsome face and perfectly proportioned physique.

Her fair, delicate fingers playfully stroked her own chin in a mockingly masculine gesture, her eyes crinkling with mischief as she teased, "Nowhere near as good as my husband."

"Oh really?"

Sinclair reached out and scooped Camilla into his arms, his dark eyes smoldering.

"Then let me show you something even better."

The night was long.

But some things lasted even longer than the night.

Though only Camilla would ever know.

—— The next day, at noon.

"Something cheaper?"

Luke looked at Camilla with an expression of helplessness.

"Madam, this is already the most affordable car in the garage."

For her, a car was merely a means of transportation.

She had never paid much attention to such matters.

But today’s event was essentially an alumni reunion, and she wanted to avoid drawing any unnecessary attention—the more low-key, the better.

So she had instructed Luke to pick the cheapest car from the garage.

Who would’ve thought?

Camilla stared at the Mercedes-Benz S-Class parked before her, its price tag was well over a million.

Pressing her crimson lips together, she couldn’t help but sigh in exasperation. Clearly, she had underestimated just how extravagant her husband could be.

"Madam," Luke spoke up hesitantly.

"Should I call someone to bring another car?"

"It’s cutting it close.

No need for the hassle—this one will do."

With that, Camilla pulled open the rear door and slid inside.

The car purred to life, gliding smoothly toward the hotel.

"Just spit it out.

Can’t you see I’m busy?"

Porter Corporation.

"Madame," A bespectacled man walked in.

"Get to the point,"

Sandra impatiently glanced up from the stack of documents in front of her, then immediately lowered her head again, her fingers still flipping through the pages.

"Can’t you see I’m swamped?"

Dressed in a sleek gray pantsuit, her hair now noticeably shorter, she exuded an air of sharp professionalism—far more composed and mature than before.

Yet the moment she spoke, that polished demeanor shattered.

The bespectacled man, seemingly accustomed to her temper, remained unfazed.

"It’s about Camilla."

Camilla?!

Sandra’s fingers froze mid-page.

When she looked up again, her expression had darkened.

From the moment she took over the Porter family, she had secretly assigned people to keep tabs on Camilla.

But that little tramp had been lying low all this time. With her own schedule packed to the brim, the matter had slipped her mind—until now.

"Speak."

The man reported everything he had uncovered, including Camilla’s plans to attend a class reunion.

"A class reunion?"

Sandra arched one delicate brow, her crimson lips curling into a sneer.

"Perfect setting for running into old flames.

With that vixen’s looks, I refuse to believe she didn’t have at least one or two messy entanglements back in college."

Her beautiful eyes narrowed, glinting with icy malice.

"Find a way—any way—to get someone inside.

I want every move of Camilla’s watch like a hawk."

Better yet, if they could dig up some dirt on that woman.

Then she’d have the perfect leverage to drag that little bitch back into the mud where she belonged.

"Understood!"

The man gave a curt nod before retreating from the room. -- Outside the International Hotel.

"Sir,"

The assistant glanced at the man in the back seat through the rearview mirror.

"The time is almost up.

Aren’t you going in?"

After all, his boss had been the first to arrive.

Yet he hadn’t stepped inside, choosing instead to watch as others entered one by one.

With the event about to start, the assistant felt compelled to remind him.

"No rush," Antonio’s gaze remained fixed on the hotel entrance, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"The most important one hasn’t arrived yet."

The combined significance of everyone inside couldn’t hold a candle to her—not even by a fraction.

Taking in his expression, the assistant suddenly realized who that "most important one" was and immediately fell silent.

Just then, a black Mercedes pulled up and came to a stop nearby.

Camilla stepped out from the back seat and walked toward the hotel.

She wore a loose white shirt dress, her chestnut curls cascading effortlessly over her shoulders.

Her only accessories were the Ocean’s Heart pendant around her neck and a minimalist watch on her wrist.

Despite the simplicity of her outfit, she carried an effortless elegance that was uniquely her own.

Did Camilla really think dressing plainly would make her blend into the background?

A faint smirk tugged at Antonio’s lips.

With a face like hers, she’d always be the brightest star in any room.

"She’s here.

Time for me to make my move."

He shrugged off his suit jacket, revealing a crisp white dress shirt underneath, then stepped out of the car. ---

Inside the private room, Camilla’s arrival caused an immediate stir.

Even back in university, she had always been the center of attention.

And now, with Antonio’s recent return, gossip about her had resurfaced—after all, she was the only woman on campus who had ever been linked to him.

Before Camilla walked in, many of the women had secretly hoped to see her falter.

Nothing pleased people more than watching someone who seemed perfectly stumble from their pedestal.

To everyone’s surprise, even after several years, Camilla reappeared looking more stunning than ever.

Standing next to her former classmates—now A-list celebrities—she still outshone them effortlessly.

Their hopes, it seemed, had been dashed.

The men, of course, weren’t overthinking it.

"A beauty is a beauty—she’ll always steal the show."

"Pretty as she is, she’s still out of reach."

"Let’s not even dream about a goddess like her. I heard Antonio is coming today."

... Amid the murmurs, an elderly man with graying hair beckoned to Camilla.

"Camilla, come here."