"Dylan Monroe. You animal."
I strode forward. I walked right up to Dylan Monroe, then clenched my fist and punched him hard.
"I begged my father to take you out of that orphanage. Fed you well, gave you the best, and you stabbed me in the back. You ate our food, used our resources, enjoyed the privileged life of an heir that the Sinclair family gave you, but you secretly did something this disgusting."
As I spoke, I continued beating Dylan Monroe savagely. Soon, Dylan Monroe was beaten bloody.
"Please stop hitting me. Please stop." Dylan Monroe cried and begged. "You're accusing me wrongly. I'm innocent. I didn't do anything."
But how could I believe him? Seeing Dylan Monroe refuse to admit it, I kicked him hard in the knee. The kick was brutal. Dylan Monroe's knee buckled with a thud, and he collapsed to the ground.
"Dad, I really didn't do anything." Seeing his pleas to me were useless, Dylan Monroe started begging old man Sinclair. "I'm innocent. Dad, you have to believe me. I don't understand computers at all. I don't know how to remotely control a projector. Someone must be framing me. Dad, she and I are both being framed."
Seeing Dylan Monroe crying so pitifully, old man Sinclair couldn't help but feel somewhat moved. Elena Monroe and Dylan Monroe were both raised by him. He truly didn't want to believe this had anything to do with either of them. So old man Sinclair tentatively asked, "Sebastian, could you be mistaken? Dylan only knows how to read books. He really doesn't understand computers, hacking, and all that. How could he be the mastermind?"
I said nothing. I just turned my head to look at Elena Monroe.
"Will you reveal the truth, or should I? I also have evidence that can prove everything was Dylan Monroe's doing. But my evidence is extreme. Once I make it public, Dylan Monroe will be finished. Elena Monroe. Dylan Monroe. I'm giving you one last chance. Confess yourselves. I can let you die with some dignity."
Faced with my relentless pressure, the expression on Elena's face grew increasingly anguished. She could barely take it.
"Sebastian Sinclair. You've already beaten Dylan this badly. Isn't that enough? Let this end here. Destroying everything benefits no one."
That last sentence even carried a hint of threat.
The other foster brides also spoke up one by one.
"Sebastian Sinclair. Even if you're the young master of the Sinclair family, you can't go too far like this. Look what you've done to Dylan without any evidence. You just attack people. Where's your decency?"
"Dylan may be an orphan, but orphans are people, too. He doesn't deserve to be trampled by you like this."
All the foster brides defended Dylan Monroe. As if Dylan Monroe was the one who'd pulled them out of the mud, when in reality it was my father who'd adopted them. It was the Sinclair family that invested money and effort, transforming them one by one into refined young ladies. It was the Sinclair family who gave them capital so they'd have money, and also connections to play the stock market and do business, completing their initial capital accumulation. Without me, old man Sinclair would never have adopted them. Would they still be playing in the mud at the orphanage?
I laughed coldly. I swept my gaze across each foster bride, then said coldly, "You all shouldn't celebrate so gleefully. Because once the evidence I have is released, you'll all go down, too."
The foster brides were all terrified. They looked at each other, then warily looked at me. "Sebastian Sinclair. What do you mean? You don't think we're accomplices, too, do you?"
I didn't answer directly. I just smiled and pulled a USB drive from my shirt pocket.
"I didn't want to take it this far, but Dylan Monroe, you brought this on yourself." I glanced coldly at Dylan Monroe, then said loudly, "Since you dared to publicly release my private photos, then I'll show everyone something even more stimulating. Someone bring a new projector."
At my command, a servant immediately brought a new projector. And I smiled as I plugged the USB into the projector.
"Actually, over a month ago, I had cameras installed in every corner of the mansion." I swept my gaze across each foster bride, then slowly said, "Initially, I wanted to hear how you all mocked me behind my back. But unexpectedly, besides your ugly true faces, I captured some other interesting things."
The moment those words left my mouth, Elena Monroe's and Dylan Monroe's faces both changed. The six remaining foster brides' expressions were equally dramatic. Some looked guilty, some looked furious, and some reacted on the spot.
"Sebastian Sinclair, how could you secretly film us? That's going too far."
I simply said flatly, "I installed cameras in my own home to guard against thieves. What's so excessive about that?"
After saying this, I was too lazy to pay attention to these ungrateful wretches and directly ordered the servant to turn on the projector and play the video.
Unbearable scenes flooded the screen. Dylan Monroe with my foster brides, entangled with each one, right there in the garden, on the sofa, on the dining table.
"Dylan, what do you think would happen if Elena Monroe saw us like this? Would she lose her mind?" Grace Chen asked with a wicked laugh.
"She'd go insane." Dylan Monroe laughed as he moved frantically. "Elena Monroe, she's just my sister. We have sibling affection. Nothing more than that. Grace, the one I've liked all along is you."
Dylan Monroe in the video confessed his deep feelings to Grace Chen, while Elena Monroe outside the video, her face in that moment became absolutely horrifying.
"Ah—" Dylan Monroe screamed and lunged forward, trying to shut off the projector. "Stop playing it. Don't play anymore. This video is fake. It's all fake. I never did any of this."
But before he could reach the projector, he was restrained by the Sinclair family's servants.
I laughed coldly. "You can't shut off the projector, because the best part is still coming."