Cara would always delay approval until the very last moment, then watch with a beaming smile as I scrambled pathetically to the venue for a piece of jewelry or a gown.

Occasionally, I'd end up being late because of this, and Peter would look at me with displeasure.

"Ada Patton, have you no sense of time? You can't even handle such a simple task. Look at yourself—in what way can you possibly measure up to Cara?"

But the reason I couldn't handle these trivial things and was always unable to arrive on time was entirely because of Cara.

Yet, Peter couldn't see it, nor did he care.

Just as he knew full well that Mom couldn't stop taking her medication or delay her treatment, he still impatiently snapped at me over the phone, as if it were perfectly justified.

"How many times have I told you? If you need money urgently, just ask Cara. It's not like she'd say no to you."

Getting money from Cara was as difficult as ever.

"What kind of emergency requires a one-time payment of 200 thousand dollars? Ada, you're not making excuses to ask for money, are you? 200 thousand dollars is no small amount. Please attach a detailed list of expenses, and I'll approve it then. For now, it's rejected."

I explained to her that it was an advance payment and that the itemized bill wouldn't be available until Mom was discharged from the hospital.

Cara smirked, feigning sudden understanding. "Oh, I see. Everyone in my family is quite healthy, so I really had no idea at all. But purchase requests are very strict, and bending the rules like this won't do.

"Why don't you get an official policy document from the hospital and attach it, and then I'll approve your request? In the meantime, I'm rejecting this."

Later, she added, "Hospitals can apparently help with falsifying documents, you know. I'm not saying you would do that. I'm just saying that it's a possibility. How about this—why don't you attach the industry regulation instead?"

And so, the critical window for emergency treatment was delayed again and again by Cara.

By the time I finally got the money, even the most outstanding medical team could do nothing to save Mom.

A continuous tide of hatred and anguish pierced my heart like countless fine needles, while an inexpressible sense of suffocation filled my chest.

I had to break out of this prison of a marriage.

Once I figured out what I needed to do next, I suddenly felt like a weight had lifted off my shoulders. It was as if the invisible shackles that had weighed on me all these years had vanished in an instant.

So when I saw Cara's provocative Instagram post, I remained utterly unmoved. In fact, I was even calm enough to save a screenshot and give it a like.

Whenever Cara was involved, Peter's messages always came swiftly.

"Cara has been doing good work lately, so I thought I'd treat her to a meal. You know, as her boss. So, don't you go stirring up trouble. Otherwise, people will take this the wrong way."

I wondered if Cara had said something to him again.

He continued matter-of-factly, "You already liked her post. If you take it back now, people will get the wrong idea about Cara. Leave a comment praising her work. Consider it an act of encouragement from both of us as a couple."

I hadn't planned on engaging at first. But the more I turned it over in my mind, the harder it became to swallow my resentment.

Thus, I complied with Peter's request and commented under Cara's post.

"Cara is so diligent and dedicated. She treats the employees and me with complete impartiality, using her little corporal approval system to flex every ounce of bureaucratic power.

"I hope you keep it up and continue to pile up your misdeeds. Every penny you save for the company today will be joint marital property when you step up as the next Mrs. Crowley. Kudos to you."

After hitting "send", I tossed my phone aside and began calmly packing up my things.

Throughout this, my phone rang incessantly. However, I paid it no attention.

It didn't take me long to finish packing. After all, all the valuable items that belonged to me were locked tightly away inside a walk-in closet secured with top-grade passcode and a safe with triple security locks.

All these years, I had been like a temporary guest. Even the traces I left behind were only shallow and faint.

Now that I saw things clearly, it all suddenly made sense.

Peter arrived home very quickly. I marveled at this once again.

Whenever it involved news about Cara, he was always so prompt. Never once did he dilly-dally.

He acted as if he hadn't noticed the small suitcase by my feet, his brows still furrowed with anger.

"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.

The fact that Peter agreed to Cara's suggestion so casually was simply proof that he didn't care about me.

This meant that if I accepted his arrangements now and went back to being his wife, Cara would continue to appear in our lives going forward.

"I don't want a single thing. All I want is to end this marriage."

It dawned on Peter that I wasn't just throwing a tantrum. Not only was I unwilling to accept his overtures, but I was also hell-bent on getting a divorce.

The irritation in his chest boiled over into anger in an instant.

"Ada, have you forgotten our agreement? If you divorce me, you won't get a single cent! And what about your family's business? Your mom's treatment? Do you honestly believe that without me, your stepfather, Eric Patton—who's already got himself a new flame—would bother to take care of your mom?"

Of course he wouldn't.

I knew perfectly well that if it weren't for that ungrateful Eric turning his back on Mom and refusing to care for her, leaving me desperate and with no other choice, I would never have agreed to this laughable arranged marriage.

Peter and I had always been two parallel lines. Now, I was simply letting everything return to its proper course.

I zipped up my suitcase once more and said coldly, "Do whatever you want."

Peter was struck dumb. He couldn't fathom why the tactic that had always worked without fail on me in the past no longer had any effect.

However, his pride wouldn't allow him to lower himself any further.

Thus, he watched in silence as I walked toward the door.

It wasn't until I pulled the door open that he could barely contain the panic rising in him. He almost called out to stop me, but then he remembered what Cara had said to him before he came.

"Ada is just too bored at home, so she wants to stir up drama, like something out of a TV soap. I've seen plenty of women like this who've grown accustomed to the good life.

"As long as you ignore her and leave her hanging, it won't be long before she comes slinking back on her own. And when she does, she'll even apologize to you."

Thinking of this, Peter felt a surge of irritation.

He reached into his pocket for a homemade honey-lemon cough drop. Maybe it was the dry weather, but he always coughed a little whenever he smoked. So, I tried all sorts of ways to make it easier on him.

Peter figured that I wasn't entirely useless after all. When the time came, he would make sure I apologized properly and sincerely repented, so that I'd never dare threaten him with divorce again.

He quickly convinced himself of this.

After leaving Peter, I hesitated for a long time but eventually went to see my mentor, Miranda Shor.

The gray-haired woman saw me dragging my meager suitcase and simply stepped aside to let me in without saying anything, just like she had during every visit of mine before.

My eyes stung despite myself, and the tears spilled over.

Back when I gave up on further studies to get married, Professor Shor was the one who objected most vehemently. Even on the day of my wedding, she hadn't given up sending me messages.

"Ada, hardship is only temporary. There is no obstacle in this world that can't be overcome. Your difficulties can be resolved in other ways. Don't let one moment of foolishness cost you your entire life. The life of a wealthy man's wife only looks glamorous from the outside.

"The sacrifices you'll have to make are all invisible. A degree might give you a brief shine, but ultimately, you're still asking someone else for money. And as long as you're taking someone's money, you're always going to be under their thumb."

Later, time proved that Professor Shor had been right about everything.

In the beginning, Peter was quite satisfied with my academic credentials.

But then Cara came into his life.

She said that before Mom adopted me, I was nothing more than someone from the lowest rung of society. And even now, despite having a degree, I still couldn't shake the bad habits ingrained in me since childhood.

Thus, I needed to learn the rules of their social class and develop proper spending habits.

I depended on Peter for money. He could grant it, withhold it, or dispense it in whatever absurd manner he saw fit.

Once I had cried my fill, Professor Shor finally said calmly, "I hope you haven't let your professional knowledge slip away. I have a job here that requires going into the mountains and wading through rivers to collect data. Do you want to take it?"

For a moment, I was stunned. I never expected that not only would she not blame me, but she would also be willing to give me a job, which was exactly what I needed most at this moment.