Betraying the Woman Who Guaranteed His Fortune

The old spiritualists in this City—the ones who whisper fortunes to the families whose names line the skyscrapers—they called me the ‘Dynastic Anchor.’ Marry me, and you didn’t just get a wife; you acquired a generational guarantee: a century of prosperity for the Rhodes line, with the promise of strong male heirs. When I was eight, they brought me from the tiny, rugged fishing island and placed me in the Rhodes mansion, where I became Sterling Rhodes’ shadow. He treated me like a priceless treasure, catering to my every wish, and the entire Rhodes family embraced me as their own daughter. But in the first year of our marriage, at my five-month checkup, the ultrasound confirmed I was carrying a girl. My mother-in-law, Eleanor Rhodes, dosed me with something. While I was unconscious, she had me rushed to a private clinic for a surgical termination. Sterling knelt by my hospital bed, his eyes red-rimmed, promising me that such a horrifying mistake would never happen again. The second time I conceived, I guarded myself obsessively. Yet, during labor, I was given a powerful anesthetic. They suffocated the baby inside me, a silent, smothering death in my own body. As I lay on the hospital bed, empty and consumed by despair, Sterling walked in with my maternity nurse, Penelope Hayes. “Penny is carrying my child, Clara. A boy, already four months along.” He spoke with the cold, measured tone of a CEO delivering bad news. “I won’t hold the ‘Dynastic Anchor’ lie against you, because I do love you in my own way, but I have a family duty that comes before everything else. I can’t abandon that.” He continued, his eyes meeting mine: “Penny will move into the penthouse’s East Wing. I’ll oversee her care myself. Once the baby is born, we will register him as your son. He will be presented to the world as the heir you delivered, a final act of service to the Rhodes name.” I stared at Penny’s gently rounded belly, and an eight-year-old memory flashed through my mind: the spiritualist’s final, chilling warning as I left the island. “Fortune is tethered to you. But should the day come when someone wrongs you or breaks you, your luck will drain completely, and calamity will follow.”

1 The old spiritualists in this City—the ones who whisper fortunes to the families whose names line the skyscrapers—they called me the ‘Dynastic Anchor.’ Marry me, and you didn’t just get a wife; you acquired a generational guarantee: a century of prosperity for the Rhodes line, with the promise of strong male heirs. When I was eight, they brought me from the tiny, rugged fishing island and placed me in the Rhodes mansion, where I became Sterling Rhodes’ shadow. He treated me like a priceless treasure, catering to my every wish, and the entire Rhodes family embraced me as their own daughter. But in the first year of our marriage, at my five-month checkup, the ultrasound confirmed I was carrying a girl. My mother-in-law, Eleanor Rhodes, dosed me with something. While I was unconscious, she had me rushed to a private clinic for a surgical termination. Sterling knelt by my hospital bed, his eyes red-rimmed, promising me that such a horrifying mistake would never happen again. The second time I conceived, I guarded myself obsessively. Yet, during labor, I was given a powerful anesthetic. They suffocated the baby inside me, a silent, smothering death in my own body. As I lay on the hospital bed, empty and consumed by despair, Sterling walked in with my maternity nurse, Penelope Hayes. “Penny is carrying my child, Clara. A boy, already four months along.” He spoke with the cold, measured tone of a CEO delivering bad news. “I won’t hold the ‘Dynastic Anchor’ lie against you, because I do love you in my own way, but I have a family duty that comes before everything else. I can’t abandon that.” He continued, his eyes meeting mine: “Penny will move into the penthouse’s East Wing. I’ll oversee her care myself. Once the baby is born, we will register him as your son. He will be presented to the world as the heir you delivered, a final act of service to the Rhodes name.” I stared at Penny’s gently rounded belly, and an eight-year-old memory flashed through my mind: the spiritualist’s final, chilling warning as I left the island. “Fortune is tethered to you. But should the day come when someone wrongs you or breaks you, your luck will drain completely, and calamity will follow.” … I hadn’t even finished my recovery period when Sterling ordered me home. Stepping into the marble foyer, the first thing I saw was the staff clearing all my belongings from the master suite. Penny stood there, her belly slightly protruding, looking at me with wide, innocent eyes. “Clara, I truly didn’t want to take your room. But my doctor insisted that pregnancy requires a space with maximum light and good qi flow—it’s crucial for prenatal education. You don’t mind, do you, dear?” Eleanor, my formerly kind and doting mother-in-law, watched me with open contempt. “After deceiving the Rhodes family for this many years, she should be grateful we haven’t shipped her back to that shantytown she came from. What right does she have to complain? All that talk of being a ‘Golden Key,’ and she couldn’t even produce a male heir. What a waste of fifteen years of our investment, and what a cruel delay for Sterling’s life.” I looked to Sterling. He was gently cradling Penny’s lower back, his gaze skimming past me. He said nothing. Penny sidled up to Eleanor, linking her arm sweetly. “Mrs. Rhodes, please don’t be upset. As the City’s premier family, the Rhodeses are bound to attract some opportunists. But since I am carrying your grandson, I can resolve this issue for you. Don’t be too hard on Clara.” Eleanor’s eyes lit up. Her tone softened instantly. “You have a truly good heart, Penny. And stop calling me Mrs. Rhodes. Soon, you’ll be calling me Mom.” Penny’s cheeks flushed pink. She turned and buried her face in Sterling’s chest. He paused for only a second before beginning to stroke her hair in a compliant, proprietary way. I stood in the opulent foyer, a stranger holding a small bag of clothes. I bent to pick up the luggage at my feet, turning toward the guest wing. Eleanor’s voice, sharp as a glass shard, cut through the air. She pointed toward a prefabricated metal shed tucked near the landscaping. “That’s your room.” I spun back to Sterling. His expression was flat. No denial. “Sterling! It’s over a 40 degrees outside! You’re putting me in the maintenance shed with the housekeeping staff!?” My voice cracked. “I accepted that you brought her home! I accepted giving up my room! But I haven’t even finished recovering from a major medical trauma! You…” The crash of a heavy vase interrupted my protest. Sterling loosened his tie, a flicker of irritation crossing his features. “Keep your voice down, Clara. Don’t ruin the peace for everyone.” He sighed, the perfect portrait of a man inconvenienced. “The guest rooms are being converted into a yoga studio, music room, and meditation space. We’re bringing in several pre-natal specialists to live here for Penny’s early education. She’s an expert in the field.” He paused. “Just see it as temporary. I’ll find a separate place for you to move into in a few days.” As the City’s wealthiest tycoon, Sterling owned properties spanning the continent. The fact that it would take him ‘a few days’ to find me a place was a calculated effort to punish me. I walked toward the sweltering metal structure, acutely aware of the contemptuous stares from the staff and my in-laws. The shed contained a few wooden cots, surrounded by scattered sandals and cleaning supplies. A broken, dust-coated fan whirred futilely, doing nothing to cut through the oppressive heat. An old plastic basin was shoved at my feet, splashing me with fetid water. “These are our uniforms. Wash them before dark and hang them outside.” I looked coldly at the housekeeper, a woman who had once knelt to adjust the train of my wedding dress. “Why should I?” She spat a mouthful of grape skins at my feet, grinning. “You still think you’re the high-and-mighty Mrs. Rhodes? Everyone knows the boss is replacing you. You’re a low-born piece of trash from a fishing village who tried to climb the ladder on the back of a superstitious lie. You have a lot more coming.” They snatched my bag and, using a broom and a mop handle to prod me, forced me into the blazing sun to wash basin after basin of clothes, socks, and even their undergarments. The sun beat down, turning my face crimson, pushing me toward unconsciousness. Through the heat haze, I looked up and saw the full-length window of the master suite. Sterling was inside. One moment he was carefully folding Penny’s clothes; the next, he was kneeling, cautiously pressing his ear to her slightly swollen belly, a picture of warm, doting devotion. When I was pregnant with our first child, he feared the housekeepers would be too clumsy to care for me. He had personally helped me dress and folded every piece of my maternity wear. “I will only ever be this devoted to you,” he’d sworn, “pregnant or not, I will wait on you like this for the rest of my life.” He had kissed my forehead with such genuine sincerity. I was naive enough to believe it was true love. Now, watching him rush to cater to the child in another woman’s womb, I understood the true extent of my foolishness. The thick, hot air pressed down, making my breathing shallow and tight. A suffocating pressure seized my chest, and I pitched forward, collapsing into the basin of soapy, gray water. Just before the blackness took me, I thought I saw his face—the man in the window—catch my eye. Was there panic? Does he still see me at all? When I woke, I was lying on a sofa. Sterling was sitting beside me, holding a glass of iced tea. He gently blew on the surface to cool it and held it to my lips. I kept my mouth shut, staring at him. “Why, Clara? What was the point? You know the entire family is furious with you. What harm is there in staying in the shed for a few days? Once this blows over, I’ll take care of you. Why are you making a spectacle right now?” My face was stark white. I managed to force out two words: “I’m making a spectacle?” He slammed the glass down, his expression hardening. “Isn’t this just attention-seeking? You deliberately put Penny’s personal laundry in with the staff’s, and then you poured pest-control spray into the basin! You know that was meant to upset her!” “She is pregnant! Did you even consider the consequences? If anything happens to this baby, it can’t be undone!” A raw, humorless laugh escaped my throat as tears streamed down my face. I whispered, “You know that a child’s loss can’t be undone.” My voice rose to a broken shout. “What about my children? The two children murdered by your family’s hands? Were those losses justified?” Sterling flinched, then his eyes turned cold as ice. “Clara, children founded on a lie shouldn’t have been kept.” A deafening roar filled my skull. All thought ceased. I felt like a stunned marionette. Founded on a lie? Shouldn’t have been kept? In his eyes, those two aborted fetuses weren’t even worthy of being called his children. I took a deep, shaky breath, pushing myself unsteadily to my feet. He reached for my hand, a flicker of something that looked like regret in his brow. “Clara, I love you. But Penny is carrying my son. Once she gives birth, I’ll pay her off handsomely and send her out of the country to pursue her education.” “But don’t try anything else. I told you, next time, you know what I’m capable of.” He strode quickly away, leaving me shivering in the suffocating heat. Twenty years of knowing him, and he had just prioritized another woman by explicitly threatening my life. I walked back to the shed, collapsing onto the foul cot. A sharp kick landed on my shin. Rosa, the head housekeeper, snarled, “Hey, Disaster. Stop slacking. Get up and finish the wash!” She raised the wooden broom handle, ready to strike. I grabbed the nearest object—a spiked high-heeled shoe—and swung it with all my remaining strength at her head. Then again. And again. I didn’t stop until her face was streaked with blood and her eyes were wide with pure terror. I surveyed the stunned staff. I spoke slowly, my voice flat. “I’m a disaster. Anyone who touches me again, I will kill them.” Surrounded by a circle of sudden, palpable fear, I let myself fall onto the wooden slats, still clutching the blood-splattered heel of the shoe. A sudden, insistent beep-beep woke me deep in the night. [Come up to the second floor. Got a little something to show you.] I took a deep breath and started walking toward the main house. A gripping, terrifying premonition had seized my heart. The moment I reached the second floor, I heard the faint sounds of gasping and moaning. The moonlight streamed through the slightly ajar door, throwing the intertwined, intimate shadows onto the wall. Sterling’s hard, muscular silhouette was clear even in the dim light. Penny’s eyes found mine, filled with a look that was both seductive and utterly provocative. “Sterling, who’s better? Me or Clara?” Sterling bit his lip, refusing to answer, but his movements grew deliberately more intense. Penny ran a finger across his chest and asked again. “Mmm… you. You’re the best.” He gasped the answer, his eyes glazed over. “Do you love me?” “Yes. I love you.” “Then when I have your son, I’ll stay here forever. Day and night. I’ll be your only Mrs. Rhodes, won’t I?” I was past pain, numb. I held my breath, waiting for the final, mortal blow. Sterling was silent for a moment, but as Penny’s hands urged him on, he surrendered completely. “Yes. Stay with me forever. You’re my only one.” On the wall directly facing the bed, our wedding portrait—the one where we were laughing into each other’s eyes—still hung. I fled the villa, swallowed whole by the inky blackness of the night. The cold shock of water woke me before dawn. Sterling leaned against the doorframe, exhaling a plume of smoke. Two security guards dragged me by my hair to his feet. “Clara, why won’t you behave?” He crushed the cigarette under his heel, grabbed my chin, and spoke with icy detachment. “The surveillance showed you entered the villa last night. This morning, we found Penny’s prenatal vitamins were switched with Mifepristone. That’s an abortifacient!” “Since you have such a cruel heart, you will never be allowed to have a child again.” A terrible premonition chilled me to the bone. My voice shook. “What are you going to do to me?” He released me and nodded to the guards, who dragged me onto the lawn. Every member of the staff surrounding us had been handed a heavy wooden dowel. Sterling turned his back and lit another cigarette. “Give the soon-to-be-ex Mrs. Rhodes a solid beating. Pay special attention to the abdomen. Make sure she understands the true meaning of a mother’s devotion.” As the cold words dropped, a barrage of blows rained down. They aimed viciously at my stomach and hips. I could feel the warm, sticky flow of blood immediately run down my legs. The extreme agony made me crawl, forgetting all dignity, to Sterling’s feet. I gripped his pants. “Sterling, I didn’t—” My legs were violently yanked out from under me. “Clara, you were a mother once. How could you try to harm an innocent child?” Penny approached, gently stroking her belly. “Oh, I forgot. Your children were either terminated or stillborn. A woman who can’t even protect her own lineage doesn’t deserve to be a mother.” She looked at the staff with a sweet, feigned confusion. “Are you all tired? You’re barely hitting her.” Rosa, the head housekeeper—the one whose head I’d split—stood at Penny’s side, her bandaged head still oozing. With the new permission, she began to kick and strike me with a horrifying ferocity. “That’s what you get for being defiant! You low-class slut who everyone has had a turn with, daring to challenge me! You deserve to be barren for life!” Sterling, who had remained indifferent with his back to me, suddenly turned when he noticed Penny near the action. He extinguished his cigarette and rushed to support her waist. “Why are you out here? The doctor said you needed bed rest.” Penny instantly transformed into a picture of fragile worry. She looked at me with what she hoped was ‘concern.’ “Maybe that’s enough, Sterling. After all, I managed to throw up the pill. Isn’t this too much?” Sterling glanced at my prone body. “She needs a lesson that will stick. She won’t learn otherwise.” I was so numb that I forgot how to struggle. Surprisingly, even the pain in my heart had dulled. As I faded into unconsciousness, I watched Sterling gently lift Penny into his arms and carry her away. His final words drifted back to me: “I’ve punished her. This is over.” I awoke in a sterile hospital room. Faint voices carried through the closed door. “Mr. Rhodes, is the former Mrs. Rhodes truly refusing surgery? If we treat her now, there’s a small chance she could conceive again. The injuries are severe, and delaying the procedure will make it impossible.” Sterling’s voice, cold and clinical, cut through the quiet. “No. No surgery. The goal is to ensure she never gets pregnant. Just make sure she’s stable, and process the discharge immediately.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out the small, unique talisman I had carried for years. I remembered the spiritualist’s instruction: “If you wish to sever the karmic bond and end your flow of fortune, burn this charm.” I picked up the lighter Sterling had left on the bedside table and, without a second’s hesitation, set the unique Talisman of Fate alight. Within three days, the bond would be severed, and the Rhodes family would face the ruin they had so desperately tried to avoid. The early summer sun on my body did nothing to relieve the chill in my bones. I was shoved into Sterling’s car, still in a thin hospital gown, and driven to the City’s most exclusive hotel. Security guards flanked me and threw me into the middle of a massive, high-society gala. The elite crowd—all in couture and holding crystal glasses—turned, their stares filled with shock and malicious curiosity. “Is that Mrs. Rhodes? Why is she dressed like that?” “What is this? Some kind of morbid performance art?” “Haven’t you heard the gossip? The headlines say she ‘Snapped from Grief and Obsession’—husband has a mistress, and she’s carrying his heir.” Their gazes were like razor blades, peeling away the last vestiges of my dignity. Penny, dazzling in a custom-tailored evening gown, was hanging sweetly on Sterling’s arm, gazing at me with a smirk that was anything but sweet. I tried to escape, but the bodyguards blocked every exit. A journalist, invited for the spectacle, rushed over to Sterling. “Mr. Rhodes, can we get a photo of you and the Second Mrs. Rhodes?” With her designer clothes and her proudly visible pregnancy, Penny looked every bit the legitimate socialite. In this city’s old money circles, a mistress who was publicly acknowledged was no longer just a mistress—she was the official Second Wife. She had everything but the certificate. And I, the legal wife, had nothing but the certificate. The journalist, sensing a better story, swiveled toward me. “Oh, there’s the official Mrs. Rhodes! Why don’t you join them for a family portrait?” The room erupted in suppressed laughter, waiting for the show. Sterling frowned, his voice cold. “Get over here. Help Penny stand, Clara.” I remained frozen. “Clara, I know you hate me,” Penny purred, her voice carrying across the quiet room. “But the baby is innocent. I’m willing to forgive the past. I truly hope we can all move forward and be good friends.” With a single, perfectly crafted sentence, she cast me as the unforgiving, jealous villain. “Do you know the difference between a person and a parasite?” I countered, my voice sharp. “People and parasites don’t become friends.” My retort drew a ripple of laughter across the floor. Penny’s face drained of color, then flushed crimson. She burrowed tearfully into Sterling’s chest. Sterling held her protectively, then raised his hand and struck me across the face, a hard, echoing slap that silenced the room. “Serve Penny a cup of tea. Apologize.” He wanted the legal wife to publicly submit and serve the mistress. “And if I don’t?” I wiped the blood from my lip and stared at him without flinching. He dropped his arm, his voice lethally calm. “Then we divorce.” “You will get nothing. No assets, no shares. You will be sent back to that island with nothing but the clothes on your back. And I will ensure no one in this entire City’s social circle will ever touch a discarded trophy wife who was thrown out without a cent.” He looked me over. “If you serve the tea and apologize now, I’ll pretend this never happened—” “Fine. Let’s divorce.”