Chapter 337 Trust Company

Chapter 341 Out of Control

By some strange impulse, Yale bent down and picked up the old phone.

Seeing this, Anna's face instantly turned pale. Ignoring the pain, she frantically tried to get up and snatch it: "Give it back! That's just an old phone, nothing to see!"

The more Anna reacted this way, the more suspicious Yale became.

He roughly pushed away Anna's reaching hand, and Anna fell back to the floor.

Yale tried entering Anna's birthday, and it unlocked!

With trembling fingers, he opened the photo album. There weren't many photos, but almost all featured the same man—a refined-looking man in his thirties with a well-maintained physique and tasteful clothing.

There were photos together at upscale restaurants, intimate selfies in hotel rooms wearing bathrobes, embracing at overseas tourist spots. The most recent one, taken three days ago, showed them holding wine glasses in an intimate pose at a luxury five-star hotel suite in the city, known for its extravagance.

Yale then opened the messaging app. The pinned contact was that same man. The chat history was explicit and intimate. He frantically scrolled up—the earliest messages dated back five years!

Back then, the York family was still doing well. Yale had his own casual affairs, and though Anna complained, she never really caught him red-handed.

Turns out, she had been doing this all along too...

What made his blood run cold was that in recent messages, the man complained that Anna was giving him less money than before, not as generous as she used to be.

Anna reassured him, saying the family finances were tight lately, her husband Yale's business was in trouble, and promised "once we get through this, I'll sell my bags and get you that sports car you've been eyeing."

Yale's mind went blank. Not only had Anna been cheating, she'd been scheming with her lover to drain what little remained of the York family fortune!

"You whore!" A roar of extreme rage burst from Yale's throat, more terrifying than ever before.

His eyes were bloodshot, veins bulging on his forehead.

Fear, anger, defeat, and the humiliation of betrayal converged in that moment into a destructive madness.

He grabbed a chair and swung it down with all his strength.

Anna's eyes widened in terror, her hands futilely raised in front of her face: "Yale! Let me explain! It's not what you think..."

A heavy thud, accompanied by the subtle sound of breaking bones and Anna's piercing scream, echoed through the luxurious living room.

Once, twice, three times...

Yale seemed to transform into a mindless beast, knowing only to pour all his negative emotions through violence, madly venting them on Anna.

Head, face, shoulders, chest... Anna's screams gradually weakened, leaving only pained moans and instinctive twitching.

Blood splattered, staining the expensive carpet, Anna's silk robe, and Yale's hands and shirt.

When the servants were finally alarmed by the terrible commotion and gathered the courage to peek through the door, they saw a hellish scene.

Anna lay crumpled in a pool of blood like a broken doll, her face unrecognizable, breathing faintly.

Yale knelt beside her, his face twisted with a mixture of madness, confusion, and tremendous fear.

"Murder!" The servant's scream pierced through the night sky of the villa district.

Anna was rushed to the nearest hospital and immediately taken to the emergency room. Her injuries were extremely severe—skull fracture, intracranial hemorrhage, multiple organ damage, life-threatening.

And Amy, far away in a foreign country, received the overseas call from the hospital and police, and her entire world instantly collapsed.

That sharp-tongued, bitter mother Anna, whom she both loved and resented, and that father Yale from whom she couldn't sever her blood ties—they had dragged Amy back into the family quagmire she'd tried to escape, in such a tragic and disgraceful way.

She bought the fastest ticket and rushed home, filled with fear and helplessness.

The York Mansion was sealed off by police, with investigators coming and going, an atmosphere of severity everywhere.

The servants were questioned separately and temporarily dismissed, leaving in shock.

In the chaos, a middle-aged maid, head lowered, carrying an inconspicuous large black garbage bag, slipped away from the villa district among the crowd.

She walked hurriedly to a remote public waste disposal station several blocks away and threw the bag into the non-recyclable compactor.

Only after watching the bag being swallowed and compressed by the machine did she relax, pull out her phone, and quickly send a message.

Then she removed the SIM card, snapped it in half, threw it along with the phone into a nearby river, and disappeared into the night as if she'd never existed.

On the other side of the city, in a quiet study.

Graham set down his teapot, looked at the deep night outside the window, then at an old photo on the wall—him and Frederick in their youth at the factory entrance, both wearing work clothes, smiling brightly, eyes full of light.

His phone screen lit up with a brief anonymous message: [Task completed, items disposed of, traces cleaned.]

Graham stared at the message for a long time.

Then this man, always known for his calm and refined demeanor, slowly raised his hand to cover his eyes.

His shoulders shook slightly as suppressed, murky tears seeped through his fingers.

Not tears of sorrow, but of pain and satisfaction from releasing years of pent-up emotions.

"Frederick, oh Frederick," Graham murmured hoarsely, "do you see? Those two heartless bastards, they've finally, finally gotten what they deserve."

Graham had been Frederick's most trusted business partner and closest friend.

Frederick was loyal and visionary, while Graham was steady, meticulous, and good at management—a perfect partnership.

Frederick had even made a will stating that if anything happened to him, the company and estate would go to Elodie and Rachel, but the company's management could be entrusted to Graham, who would receive certain shares.

However, everything changed after Frederick suddenly fell ill.

Frederick was in his prime, always in good health, yet suddenly during a routine checkup was diagnosed with a rare blood disease that rapidly deteriorated, leaving him bedridden within months.

The medical treatment process was also suspicious—just when things seemed to improve, his condition would suddenly worsen again.

Graham ran around seeking doctors and medicine, but always felt an invisible resistance.

After Yale took over company affairs as Frederick's brother, he gradually marginalized Graham, making many decisions without consulting him.

Later, Graham was inexplicably hunted and had to flee abroad.

Graham didn't believe Frederick's death was simply due to illness.

He knew Frederick too well and vaguely sensed Yale's hidden ambition and desire for Frederick's wealth.

Graham investigated secretly and discovered that during Frederick's illness, there were suspicious points regarding the source and dosage records of several key medications, and the medical staff responsible for daily care had unclear connections with Yale.