Money Can't Buy Back a Dead Heart

Professor Shor frowned imperceptibly. "What? Don't tell me you've gotten too used to the good life of a wealthy wife and can't handle the hardships we working folks have to put up with?"

With tears still clinging to my cheeks, I smiled from the bottom of my heart.

"I can handle it, Professor Shor. For myself, I'm willing to put up with any hardship."

Professor Shor smiled with genuine warmth and immediately set things in motion with swift efficiency.

"Then hurry up and contact the team right away. Work isn't some soap opera. You don't get to sit around feeling sorry for yourself."

Under her arrangements, I soon embarked on the work journey. At first, I struggled to adjust. But as time went on, the knowledge and operation procedures etched deep in my soul began to surface from the recesses of my mind, and I grew more and more adept.

The stern and taciturn team leader, Riley Becker, gave me a thumbs-up.

"At first, I was worried you'd be too soft. But now, I can see that it's true what they say—great mentors make great proteges."

I smiled and replied, "It's because everyone has been looking out for me. Otherwise, I wouldn't have been able to adjust so quickly."

Just as everyone was chatting and laughing, an ill-timed call rang out.

"Ada?"

I turned around. It was Cara, dressed in the height of fashion, clutching the latest designer handbag.

She swept a dismissive glance over the others beside me and said, "I was wondering why you suddenly kicked up such a fuss about divorcing Peter. It turns out you're back to your old ways, mixing with these low-class people again."

As she spoke, she wrinkled her brows, as if even speaking to us was a charitable act.

My expression turned icy.

Sure, we might look a bit rough around the edges after hauling ourselves through the wilderness collecting data. But that still didn't give her the right to insult us.

"What are you? A cockroach? You're everywhere!" I said to Cara.

Cara immediately turned red in the face.

From behind her emerged an all-too-familiar man.

"What's going on?"

With reddened eyes, Cara replied pitifully, "Nothing much, really. It's just that Ada recklessly ran away from home for a long time.

"So, when I saw her out here today following us around with that dodgy crowd she's fallen in with, I couldn't help trying to talk some sense into her. Who knew she'd take it the wrong way?"

It was only then that Peter noticed me standing across from him, and a barely perceptible frown flickered across his face.

His eyes held a knowing look. "Ada, are you picking on Cara again? If you've come to say sorry to me, you must first apologize to her!"

I rolled my eyes at him and turned to leave, taking everyone with me.

The woman beside me, Sarah Humphrey, asked quietly, "Ada, who was that?"

I snorted coldly and replied, "My blind and brainless ex-husband."

Peter's expression darkened as he demanded, "Ada, you've already followed me all the way here, so how much longer do you intend to keep this up? You've been away from home for so many days without a care!

"You didn't even bother to ask about Mom! Have you no conscience at all? Are you really going to push me into stopping payment for Mom's treatment?"

I looked at him wearily, my tone icy. "Go ahead and cut it off. Isn't that what you do best?"

Peter was stung by the loathing and coldness in my eyes. He couldn't tell whether what he felt in that moment was anger or panic at what he was about to lose.

He pulled out his phone decisively, not noticing the panic that flickered across Cara's face.

"Peter, let's not do this."

Peter pushed down Cara's hand, which was resting on his arm, and said coldly, "Ada must be taught a lesson. Otherwise, she'll never learn how to be my wife."

On the other end of the line, his assistant, Cory Morrow, hesitated upon receiving the order.

"Mr. Crowley, Mrs. Crowley's adoptive mother passed away last month. Her medical expenses had already been cut off before her death."

Peter froze on the spot, murmuring in disbelief, "How is that possible?"