"Who dares?"
The man's icy voice, devoid of all warmth, draped the entire council chamber in a suffocating aura of menace.
Every servant of the Porter family paled instantly, as if the blood had drained from their faces.
Their bodies trembled, frozen in place—not a single one dared to move another inch.
Camilla leaned against Sinclair's chest, her expression cold and detached as she watched the scene unfold.
"Sinclair!"
Grandpa Porter's eyes widened in shock, his aged face twisted with terror.
"What—what are you doing?!"
"Since she's so eager to die," Sinclair leveled the gun at Sandra, his voice a chilling rasp, devoid of any warmth.
"I'll grant her wish."
The overwhelming killing intent radiating from him sent shivers down everyone's spines.
Even a seasoned figure like Grandpa Porter couldn't suppress the panic flashing across his face.
And as for Sandra, trapped beneath the barrel of the gun—her terror was beyond words.
