"Noah, what brings you to call me this late?"

Brandon Randolph, donning an apron, was cooking dinner in the kitchen when he unexpectedly received a call from his younger brother, Noah.

"Bro, I saw your wife go into a hotel with some guy!"

Noah's words hit Brandon like a thunderbolt, paralyzing him in his tracks.

"You... you must have mistaken, right?"

Brandon found it hard to believe.

Today was his wedding anniversary with Sara. He had specially prepared a lavish dinner, waiting for Sara to come home and share the meal.

"Absolutely not! I even took a picture!"

With that, Noah sent a photo to Brandon's phone.

In the photo, a proud looking young man, with an arm around the slender waist of a woman, was walking towards the entrance of Hilton Grand Hotel.

The stunningly beautiful woman, carrying a hint of pride, was unmistakably Sara!

And the arrogant man with his arm around her, it was none other than the heir of the prominent Foster family in Chicago City, Foster Matt!

Brandon's hand, holding the phone, began to tremble slightly as he mentally scrambled for excuses for Sara.

It didn’t have to be as Noah saw. She might just be discussing business with Foster Matt.

After all, his health hadn’t been the best lately, and Sara had been consistently gentle and caring toward him every day.

Brandon clenched his fists, struggled internally for a while, and then dialed Sara's number.

But no one answered!

The color drained from Brandon's face, and he abruptly got up to head outside.

He had to see for himself!

Twenty minutes later, outside a luxury suite of Hilton Grand Hotel.

With a somber expression, Brandon placed his ear to the door and immediately heard a series of blush-inducing sounds.

"Mr. Foster, be gentle..."

"Don't be so rough, I can't handle it..."

"When... When will you take it off? I'm in my risky days..."

As soon as Sara stopped speaking, a man's voice followed.

"Risky days are perfect, you can conceive my child. Hurry up and divorce that useless husband of yours."

"By the way, did you manage to get the prescription he has?"

Sara giggled, "Of course! Our family even registered for a patent. Now, the Nine-flower Divine Dew pill belongs to us!"

"Mr. Foster, after my divorce, I'll marry you. You better be good to me!"

In an instant, anger surged in Brandon!

As much as he once loved Sara, now he feels just as much fury towards her!

Back then, Sara, as the heiress of the waisglass family, had broken ties with her family just to marry him, an ordinary man.

The Randolph family had been doctors for generations, and they owned a clinic; they could be considered well-off.

But compared with the waisglass family, they were nothing in comparison.

At that time, Brandon was deeply moved and vowed to give Sara a good life, but he fell seriously ill shortly after marriage. Relying entirely on Sara's care, he couldn't even afford a house of their own.

Now it seems that everything is not as simple as it appears on the surface!

Sara's target has always been the prescription in her hands!

Brandon was incredibly aggrieved, no longer able to suppress the hatred in his heart, he began beating wildly on the door!

"Sara, you adulterous woman and scumbag, come out!"

Brandon roared insanely; his fists were bleeding from the pounding on the door.

Finally, the door opened.

Sara, wrapped in a bathrobe, appeared utterly unruffled.

She looked at Brandon with the cold indifferent eyes of a stranger, "How did you find out I'm here? Never mind, it doesn’t matter."

"Since you’ve discovered us, there's nothing more to be said, we're getting a divorce!"

Sara's heart is truly cold and cruel, just like a venomous serpent!

Brandon stared angrily at Sara, wishing he could charge forward and slap her across the face.

"So, you married me just for the medicinal recipe passed down by my ancestors?" Brandon asked furiously.

"Exactly. Otherwise, how could I tolerate such a loser like you to be my husband? You have no idea how many times I've vomited out of disgust behind your back all these years!"

"Brandon, the waisglass family have obtained your secret formula."

"You are now worthless to me!"

Sara coldly sneered, her stunning face painted with a thick hue of contempt.

In his heart, Brandon was writhing, feeling as if each heartbeat was seeping blood!

At this time, Foster Matt also descended from the bed, looking at Brandon with a sneer: "What, you're upset because this Young Boss slept with your wife?"

"Brandon, you need to take a piss and see your bear-like face! With your attitude, what makes you think you have the right to compete for women with me, the Young Boss?"

"I am Foster’s family's young Boss and our family has billions in assets! What about you? You’re just a piece of trash!"

"What right do you have to flaunt in front of me?"

Foster Matt, after sleeping with his own wife, still had the audacity to act so arrogant.

Why?

Just because he's the young Boss of the Foster family?

Brandon was thoroughly enraged.

With an angry roar, he lunged at Foster Matt.

"Damn it, you dare to fight?"

Foster Matt immediately tangled with Brandon.

Perhaps his rage unleashed Brandon's potential, as he managed to bruise Foster Matt, leaving the young Boss of the Foster family's face a mess and his nose bleeding profusely!

At that moment, Sara screamed and reprimanded sternly, "Brandon, stop! He's the young Boss of the Foster family—dare you hit him? Do you want to die?"

"I hit him, so what? Not only will I hit him, but I'll also hit you, you lowlife!"

With a kick, Brandon sent Foster Matt flying, and with two slaps, he had Sara, disheveled as she was, falling to the ground.

"You...you're crazy..."

Sara covered her swollen face, staring incredulously at Brandon.

"I'm crazy, I must be crazy to fall for a cheap woman like you!”

"Foster Matt, Sara, you dog couple should be glad you're living under the law."

"Otherwise, I'd have you dead by now!”

Having said that, Brandon turned and strode away, without looking back.

Foster Matt, crawling up from the ground in a disgraceful manner, wiped the blood from his nose and gritted his teeth, "Brandon, I won't let you off!"

Afterwards, Foster Matt reached for his phone, dialing a number.

"Hey, it's me, I need you to kill someone!"

"After it's done, I'll give you five million!"

"What, you wouldn't dare? You won't live for long anyway, what else wouldn't you dare to do?"

...

Chicago Central Street.

Despite the absence of rain on the weather forecast, a heavy downpour had taken its toll on the city, the streets filled with accumulating rainwater.

Brandon was soaked to the skin, in utter despair, disoriented, like a soulless husk shuffling aimlessly on the rain-soaked pavement.

Suddenly, a red Corolla whizzed towards him.

Under normal circumstances, Brandon could have easily avoided the car.

But now, he simply didn't have time to react!

Crash!

A stifling sound of impact resonated catapulting Brandon seven or eight meters before he finally hit the ground.

The moment he touched the ground, crimson blood gushed out from his body, rapidly dyeing the accumulated rainwater on the street red.

"Am...am I really about to die...? I... I can't accept this..."

Brandon was filled with resentment in his heart,

but his eyelids were getting heavier and heavier, gradually plunging into total darkness.

Just at this moment, a dazzling light suddenly shone.

"How pitiful it is that the descendants of my Randolph family have fallen into such destitution…"

"If that’s the case, then I'll bestow my skills unto you. I hope you can effectively utilize them to revive the glory of the Randolph family!"