"Henry, we've been separated for two months," Marta said. "Whether you agree or not, my attorney is going to file for divorce.

"You'll meet someone better..." Her words were cut off as she scoffed lightly,

"Paul, wait a moment, I'm on the phone..."

Henry faintly heard this voice and questioned, "Who's Paul? Who are you talking to?

Tell me, have you been seeing other men behind my back?"

"Henry, there's no need to get worked up, it's just a neighbor helping fix the fence.

About the divorce, I hope you can think it over calmly. Later, my attorney will..."

Henry hung up the phone immediately. This was wrong, totally different from what he had anticipated.

When he received a call from Marta yesterday, his heart leaped with excitement. Her words about wanting a divorce chilled his heart, but he wasn't too shaken as he had already anticipated this outcome.

As long as Marta returned to Los Angeles for the divorce, he had a way to make her stay, to never leave him.

However, his long-standing caution made him feel that something was not right. Why did Marta suddenly call for a divorce?

He suspected it might be a trap set by the police, so today he tried to probe in the opposite direction, to see if someone was following him.

Yet he hadn't noticed anyone tailing him, and his suspicions gradually dissipated.

The phone call from Marta just now was like a thunderbolt, completely baffling him.

There was no trap. Marta never intended to come back. All his previous planning and speculation came to naught.

He was just a fool with delusions.

All his vigilance, caution, and wariness were meaningless!

Utterly ridiculous.

Once divorced, he might completely lose Marta.

Marta had another man by her side, he could feel it was not merely a neighbor helping fix the fence; men are not that kind-hearted.

This also explained why Marta suddenly wanted a divorce, because she had another man.

"Fuck! Stinking woman!

Damned woman!" Henry felt he was being abandoned once again.

Anger!

Helplessness!

Despair!

All sorts of negative emotions were piling up in his heart, and he felt his head was going to explode.

...

At nine o'clock in the evening.

Henry Rogers drove a black pickup truck and left home.

The pickup truck entered downtown and stopped in an empty parking lot.

A few minutes later, Henry, wearing a baseball cap and carrying a bag, left the parking lot and walked eastward along the road. It was pitch dark nearby, with no street lights or surveillance, and only the occasional car drove by.

Henry turned into an alley and disappeared from view.

About ten minutes later, a gray Honda sedan drove out of another exit from the depths of the alley.

The Honda car traveled a few blocks along the street, slowing down as Henry kept looking to the roadside, his eyes flashing with a fierce intensity, like a hyena searching for prey, greedy, ruthless, cunning.

On the side of the street ahead stood a red-haired woman in revealing clothing, with a lot of skin exposed.

Henry stopped the car by the roadside and rolled down the window. The redhead, swaying her hips, approached and leaned on the window, revealing her ample bosom, "Hi, tough guy, looking for some fun?"

Henry appraised the woman up and down, "What's your name?"

"Elise."

"Get in."

"Whoa, in a bit of a rush, huh? Two hundred dollars an hour," she said.

"No problem."

Elise pointed behind her, "Tough guy, there's an apartment right next to us, how about we go there? You'll even save on a hotel."

Henry glanced over, "I still prefer hotels."

"That'll cost you more."

"Why?"

"Haven't you heard? A young girl was killed by a psycho recently. They say her head was even cut off.

So, we generally don't go out now."

Henry snorted, "How much more usually?"

"Three hundred dollars an hour.

In these special times, I'm also taking a certain risk."

"Do I look like a bad guy to you?"

"Not really, but we have to follow the rules, that's my boss's order."

"Heh..." Henry chuckled coldly, "Deal, get in."

"Tough guy, I promise you won't regret it."

Just then, a police patrol car passed by from the opposite direction. Henry startled, started the car, and sped away with a push on the accelerator.

The streetwalker also tactfully moved off in another direction.

Their transaction ended without any satisfaction.

Inside the car, Henry's face turned to anger, and he pounded the steering wheel hard,

"Fuck!

Damned Los Angeles police, you bastards ruined my chances again."

Watching the patrol car pass by in a flash, Henry knew it was a false alarm. After thinking it over, if the police wanted to arrest him, they wouldn't use such a method to scare him off, nor would it be a patrol officer coming for him.

The more this happened, the more enraged and frustrated he felt. It was as if God himself was against him, he had no outlet for the malicious fire within, and he felt like he was going to explode from the rage.

However, having been startled just now, he dared not commit another crime, making him increasingly irritable and restless...

...

In the distance, in an inconspicuous black car.

Jackson sat in the driver's seat, slowly starting the car, "Captain, was that police car arranged by you?"

"No, it has nothing to do with our plan." Luke suspected that Henry, after being provoked, might take some action, but he didn't know where Henry would choose to strike.

Jackson sighed, "It's such a pity. That guy obviously wanted to commit another crime, and that patrol car scared him off."

"There might be other police matters around here," Luke said indifferently, unbothered.

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