The raise of Maureen Smith and her Good Luck System

Chapter 175: Micheal and Sinclair encounter again

The Luther Family ancestral home.

The atmosphere in the living room was suffocatingly tense.

“Cough… cough—”

A sharp pain in his chest sent Micheal into a fit of coughing, streaks of crimson blood seeping from the corners of his lips.

His already pallid face grew even more ashen, his frail frame trembling.

Sinclair watched coldly, the pressure of his foot increasing mercilessly.

His narrow, obsidian-dark eyes brimmed with a predatory cruelty, a storm of violence swirling within.

Grandpa Luther opened his mouth as if to speak but ultimately turned his gaze away, remaining silent..

Though he didn’t know the full extent of Micheal’s transgressions, the sheer fury in Sinclair’s reaction told him they were unforgivable. Besides.

The chance had been given. Whether Micheal lived or died now was the fate he had chosen for himself.

“Camilla,”

Grandpa Luther softened his expression, turning to Camilla.

“Come, keep this old man company in the back for a while.”

Camilla understood that Grandpa Luther was worried the upcoming scene might frighten her.

“Grandpa,” She glanced at Sinclair, whose entire demeanor radiated hostility, then shook her head.

“I want to stay here with my Sweetheart.”

“Very well.” Grandpa Luther could see the determination in Camilla’s expression and had no choice but to nod in agreement.

“Carlos, let’s go.” With Camilla here, Sinclair wouldn’t completely lose control.

“Yes, grandpa.” Uncle Carlos accompanied Grandpa Luther as they walked out.

As he passed his own son, he subtly shot him a meaningful look—clearly instructing Ramsey to keep a close eye on Sinclair’s mood.

Ramsey caught the hint, pressing his lips together in a silent nod.

“Sweetheart?” Micheal murmured the name under his breath before turning his gaze to Camilla, his lips curling into an inscrutable smile.

“So is this your wife?”

Her face was breathtakingly beautiful, her demeanor cool and aloof.

Yet the delicate dimples at the corners of her lips added a touch of sweetness and charm.

These contrasting qualities blended seamlessly in her, creating an aura so radiant that even standing still, she shone like the brightest beam of light—impossible to look away from.

Camilla met Micheal’s scrutinizing gaze with calm indifference, her long, thick lashes fluttering slightly, her eyes icy.

A woman’s intuition was always sharp. She could clearly sense the unspoken hostility in Micheal’s stare.

But… why?

“So, Sinclair, this is your type,” Micheal remarked, her attention shifting back to the strikingly handsome man beside her.

The smile on his lips deepened, though his tone carried an unsettling chill.

“Not bad taste—she is indeed a rare beauty.” A pause, then he added, his voice laced with mockery, “Pity, though.