Money Can't Buy Back a Dead Heart

"I called you—didn't you hear?" Peter asked.

"I did, but I didn't want to answer," I replied indifferently.

Peter looked as if he had heard something utterly ridiculous, speaking to me as though he couldn't comprehend what I'd said.

"Didn't I already tell you? Cara has been performing well at work lately, and that's why I treated her to a meal. Do you have any idea how many people in the company already have the wrong idea about her? How is she supposed to face everyone after that comment you posted?"

I couldn't help but sneer at this. "It looks like not everyone is blind after all. So, some people do know exactly what no good she has been up to." I turned to look at Peter. "Besides, I'm not her mother, so why should I worry about whether she has it easy at the company?"

In an instant, Peter's expression darkened.

"Ada, since when did you become this kind of vulgar person who believes every rumor they hear? You know perfectly well how difficult it is for a young woman to climb the corporate ladder, so why would you slander and insult an outstanding woman like Cara?

"If you hadn't gone to the company and caused a scene last time, would Cara be in this position now?"

His gaze toward me was filled with exhaustion and reproach. "I don't fault you for wanting to be a freeloader who does nothing productive, and I'm willing to provide you with a life of luxury.

"But not all women are as shortsighted and incompetent as you. If you continue leveling this kind of malice and defamation at Cara, don't blame me for what happens next. Just think about your mom."

I finally couldn't help but laugh out loud, my voice brimming with hurt and anguish.

I opened my suitcase right in front of Peter.

"A life of luxury? Take a look at the kind of luxurious life I've been living in your house. I'm leaving, and I can't even pack four decent outfits from the wardrobe. Even getting a haircut requires going through the corporate approval system. A housekeeper takes home more money in a month than I do!"

As I spoke, I forcibly dragged Peter to the walk-in closet and pointed at the combination lock on the door.

"Do you know how to open this lock? You have to enter a passcode first, then scan a fingerprint. Even your company's documents aren't locked up this tight! What kind of pampered, well-kept wife has to live like this? In fact, I'm more like a mistress scrabbling for survival under your secretary's thumb!"

Peter looked utterly baffled.

"Is this why you're jealous of Cara? So much so that you went all the way to the company just to ruin her reputation?" he asked me incredulously.

My heart sank instantly.

Everything I had just said was nothing more than casting pearls before swine.

If Peter had ever, even for a moment, thought this was wrong and that it was an insult and degradation to me, he wouldn't have spent all these years going along with Cara's one absurd suggestion after another, placing every aspect of my daily life under the corporate approval system.

I lowered my eyes slightly. "Forget it. Think whatever you want. Let's get divorced."

Hearing the resolve in my voice, Peter actually laughed.

With an expression of smug comprehension, he said, "Enough already. I don't have the energy to keep mollycoddling you. Isn't all this fuss simply because you're jealous and competing with Cara for my attention? Don't assume all women are narrow-minded and petty like you."

He gently smoothed out the clothes I had rumpled just moments ago.

Then, as if making a concession, he said, "Tomorrow, I'll arrange for a top-tier international medical team to come treat Mom. In a bit, I'll have Cara give you the passcode for the walk-in closet and the safe, and I'll change the fingerprints to yours as well.

"From now on, I'll have the finance team transfer you ten thousand dollars every month, so you don't need to go through the corporate approval system anymore."

After many years as husband and wife, I knew Peter reasonably well. For him, going this far was already the biggest compromise he was capable of making.

By all logic, I should quit while I was ahead. However, I was truly tired of this love triangle. No, perhaps I had never been part of it to begin with.

Just like now—for all the promises he'd just made, he still hadn't said a single word about what Cara had done. Even though we both knew perfectly well that this ridiculous approval system was her idea, proposed as a joke in the first place.