The Shadow Mistress and the Fake Heir

On our wedding anniversary, the gift Rhodes sent me was a pregnant test result from a woman I’d never met. “My little bird is nesting, and she’s been clingy lately. I’m leaving early tonight.” I gripped the edge of the dining table, my fingertips going numb. “You cheated? And got someone pregnant?” He shook his head, correcting me with chilling composure. “You’ve got the timeline backwards. I cheated so that I could have a child.” “I respect your body, Aubrey, but the family legacy needs an heir.” “Don’t worry, this will be our child. I won’t let anyone bring drama to your door.” I crumpled the test result in my hand. “And what if I don’t want this child?” He chuckled, as if he’d anticipated the question. “Then I’ll simply have to find the child a new mother. Don’t be foolish, Aubrey.” Tears streamed down my face, splashing onto the meticulously prepared anniversary dinner. I looked at the feast and felt like the punchline of a very cruel joke.

1 Rhodes walked over and embraced me, his head close to my ear. His voice was a whisper, the kind a lover uses for sweet nothings. “You’ve always wanted to know why I was two hours late to our wedding, right?” My body went instantly rigid, and I started shaking uncontrollably. That day, I’d stood in the chapel in my gown for two long hours. Everyone said Rhodes had bolted. But I, foolishly, believed he would come. I made over twenty calls. He only texted back two words: Wait for me. Two hours later, after the guests had trickled away, he finally rushed in. The ceremony was just the two of us. I cried then, too, but those were tears of pure joy, believing I was marrying the love of my life. “The night before,” he continued, his breath a foul caress against my skin, “my little bird was crying, insisting on giving me her first time. She was so delicate, in so much pain, I spent all night comforting her. I simply lost track of time.” “Now you know why I didn’t touch you on our wedding night, don’t you? She’d completely drained me. I was exhausted.” A searing pain pierced my heart, leaving me breathless. He frowned, a familiar flicker of impatience in his eyes, yet his tone was falsely affectionate as he scolded me. “Stop crying, Aubrey. You know your tears break my heart. You’ve been my wife for two years. Can’t you be happy for me? I slept with her for two years to get this baby. It’s all to realize your dream of being a mother. Shouldn’t you understand?” “If you truly can’t accept it, we can divorce. But the position of Mrs. Rhodes will always be waiting for you, until you’re ready to come back.” My mind was a blank slate. Today should have been a celebration—seven years since we met, two since we married. I should have been blissfully happy. Instead, I could only stare at the man I loved most and choke out: “Why? Why would you do this to me? Why only tell me now?” Rhodes’s eyes were filled with a thick, suffocating love. “Because I love you, Aubrey.” “Every day I hid it, every morning I woke up and you weren’t the one next to me, I felt a stab of guilt. I wanted to cut myself. But we need a child. That’s what makes a complete family. Just bear with me, okay?” His lips moved closer, as if he intended to kiss me. I shoved him away with all my strength and screamed. “Get out! Don’t touch me! You disgust me!” Rhodes raised his hands in a gesture of surrender and smiled a defeated, almost charming smile. “Aubrey, I won’t touch you. Don’t be angry.” “Think about it some more. I have to go now. I’m taking her for a prenatal check-up tomorrow.” He turned and left, clean and decisive. The moment the door shut, I flew into a rage, flipping the entire table. Amidst the chaos of the ruined room, I collapsed and wept uncontrollably. That night, I smashed everything I could reach. The only thing I couldn’t bring myself to touch was the wedding photo on the wall. I held it, crying until I passed out. In my dream, time rewound. I was back at the beginning. Rhodes gripped my hand, standing firm against his father. “No one is going to separate me and Aubrey Victor!” His father erupted in fury, ordering his men to hold Rhodes down and give him thirty lashes. I knelt, begging him to break up with me. Rhodes, barely conscious, his face covered in blood, glared at me and threatened, “Aubrey, if you dare say ‘break up’ one more time, I will die right here in front of you.” He was disowned. The pampered, silver-spoon heir moved with me into a sunless basement. He was covered in heat rash in the summer, and in winter, his fingers were frostbitten. To earn money, he went to illegal fighting rings. He broke two ribs but refused a doctor. Instead, he took the money and bought us a small, one-bedroom apartment with windows. He held me, his voice rough and broken. “Don’t be ashamed, Aubrey. I promise I’ll get you a bigger, better house one day.” That love felt so real, I wanted to drown in the dream and never wake up. But my phone kept ringing. It was Rhodes’s secretary. Her voice was cautious and deferential. “Mrs. Victor, please take care of yourself. We’re handling the trending topic.” 2 I numbly opened Twitter. The top trending story was a photo of Rhodes and a visibly pregnant young woman at the hospital, taken by a passerby. Despite heavy pixelation, the woman’s swollen stomach and Rhodes’s look of raw desire were unmistakably clear. Shaking, I called him. It took a long time for him to answer, and his voice was thick with exhaustion. “Aubrey, you saw it? I didn’t think that little succubus would dare lure me in while pregnant. I just lost control for a minute.” “Why don’t you post on Twitter that it’s AI? A statement from Mrs. Rhodes will crush this faster than my PR team can pay to suppress it.” On the drive to see Rhodes, I was in a daze. Years ago, he was on every front page when he was kicked out of his family. The media camped out for a week, betting on how long the high-and-mighty heir would keep the ‘Cinderella’ wife. Rhodes ignored them all. He waited until his studio was finally taking off. Then, he called a press conference, knelt down in front of all the reporters, and proposed. “I, Rhodes Victor, will love Aubrey Victor for the rest of my life!” He laid his love bare for the world to see, leaving himself no retreat. So, when the cheating scandal broke, everyone went wild. When I arrived, his secretary greeted me, her eyes filled with pity and a desire to speak. My hands and feet were ice cold. I pushed the door open, stiffly. A cloyingly sweet, yet distinctly musky odor hit me. The woman—Sylvia, I’d later learn—was draped on the sofa, her pregnant belly fully exposed. Rhodes saw me and kissed her stomach gently. His voice was tender. “My wife is here to pick me up.” The woman stroked her belly and smiled a challenging, knowing smile at me. “Mrs. Victor, want to feel?” She actually stood up, turning her belly toward me as she approached. An intense, choking feeling strangled my throat. My legs gave out, and I collapsed onto the floor. Rhodes’s face contorted. He scrambled to my side. “Aubrey! What is it? You look terrible!” I struggled to get out of his embrace. Rhodes seemed to realize what was happening and waved at the woman. “Can’t you see my wife isn’t well? Get away from her!” The woman instantly clutched her stomach, her eyes welling up. Rhodes clicked his tongue in annoyance but forced himself to get up and pinch her cheek. “Be good. Once my wife calms down, I’ll be back with you and the baby, okay?” Only then did she smile through her tears, shooting me a smug glance before leaving. Rhodes watched her go, then turned, anxiously pulling me up. “Aubrey, are you better? Should I take you to the hospital?” “I know you can’t accept another woman’s child, so if you insist on a divorce, I understand, and I’ll respect it.” My dizzying mind suddenly went crystal clear. I looked up and met his gaze. “Rhodes, I will never divorce you.” I was perfectly lucid. I was disgusted by his betrayal and hated that woman’s provocation. But more than anything, I was unwilling to let go. I loved Rhodes. Even if being together meant tearing each other apart, I would not release him. I ran to the rooftop, sobbing, forcing him to choose between me and the baby. When I swung one leg over the railing, he screamed my name. He chose me. I knew it. I knew I was still the one he loved the most. I could swallow all the humiliation, forgive his momentary lapse. As long as he finally chose to return to me. Rhodes made the woman, Holly, abort the child. I thought we could finally start over. But he was quick to teach me a lesson. 3 The day after my birthday, photos of Rhodes and his secretary, Tasha, having sex in a car in the suburbs were plastered all over the internet. Another betrayal. My heart seized, and I fainted. When I woke up, I rushed to his company, screaming in front of the media, calling him a heartless, faithless monster. But Rhodes was no longer the broke young man kicked out of his family. He was CEO, a man who controlled the city. No media dared print my accusations. Instead, he dismissed it with one light sentence: “She’s been emotionally unstable lately.” Just like that, I became the city’s jealous, hysterical shrew. Rhodes gently stroked my hair. “You used to praise Tasha for being so discreet. I thought you wouldn’t mind her carrying the child. But seeing you like this, I guess not?” “Aubrey, my patience has limits. We must have a child. Since you insist on disobeying me, don’t blame me for using my own methods to teach you obedience.” Determined to establish dominance, he fired Tasha and immediately found a starlet named Summer. She vowed to abandon her career to give him a son. Moved by her declaration, Rhodes sold the one-bedroom apartment. The one he’d broken two ribs to buy. The one that housed our purest love and memories. I knelt, begging him, sobbing until I couldn’t breathe. But the apartment was gone, replaced by a bracelet on the starlet’s wrist. Summer lasted five months without getting pregnant. He replaced her with an influencer named Zara. My body and mind collapsed. I was seeing a therapist daily. Two months later, Zara showed up at my house, clutching her stomach. I lost control and slapped her. That single slap caused her to miscarry. Rhodes’s anger finally burned me. He sent me to a private behavioral modification center. Seven days of a dark room, piercing lectures, and inhumane correction. I returned home vacant and simpleminded. The bedroom door was ajar. He and a new woman were in our bed, trying to conceive. His face was slick with sweat. He looked up at me and smiled. “Aubrey, this is your punishment for being disobedient.” “Be a good girl. Once she’s pregnant, I promise we’ll go back to normal.” This time, I didn’t cry or yell. I waited until they were done. Then, quietly, I climbed onto the rooftop and jumped. I woke up in the hospital, covered in plaster casts. Rhodes was beside my bed, unshaven, a few strands of gray at his temples. He gripped my hand, tears raining down. “Aubrey, I’m so sorry, I’m a bastard! If anything had happened to you, I would have slit my wrists and gone with you!” For seven years, the words Rhodes said most often were not I love you. They were I’m fine, I have Aubrey. When he was kicked out, he said, I’m fine, having Aubrey is enough. When his ribs were broken, he said, I’m fine, it doesn’t hurt when I have Aubrey. When his former friends threw money in his face to humiliate him, he still said, I’m fine, I still have Aubrey. The hardest year, we shared a single cold bun a day. I couldn’t bear to drag him down anymore. I swallowed the splitting pain and suggested we break up. He knelt, begging me. “Aubrey, I can’t live for one more second without you.” Now, crying, I asked him: “Rhodes, do you really have to have a child?” He shook his head frantically, clutching me tightly. “No, I don’t. I only want you. Only Aubrey.” During my recovery, his care was meticulous. We were back to the beginning. He would kiss me and whisper in my ear, over and over, “I love you, Aubrey. I only want you.” That period was beautiful, like a fragile dream. But dreams always end. 4 His new mistress was a college student named Sylvia, dressed in cheap clothes, barely daring to look at me. Yet, she looked oddly familiar. Rhodes shielded her behind him, equally afraid to meet my eyes. I heard my own voice, dry and hollow. “Didn’t you say you didn’t want a child anymore?” He was silent for a long time before finally saying: “She’s different.” In that moment, I heard the precise sound of my heart shattering. Sylvia was different. For her, Rhodes went to cooking classes and prepared meals himself. He bought her extravagant jewelry and lit up the sky with expensive displays. Her smile was worth any price. On Sylvia’s birthday, the night sky was filled with a fleet of drones, outlining the silhouette of them embracing, spelling out the words: “Happy Birthday, Little Dream.” The light was so sharp it physically hurt my eyes. A memory flashed into my mind. Years ago, nestled in our tiny apartment, we saw a drone show on TV. I’d watched with wide-eyed envy. He held me then and promised, “When we have money, I’ll book all the drones in the city for your birthday. They’ll fly in the shape of us and spell out ‘Happy Birthday.’” Later, we did have money. But not one drone ever appeared on my birthday. I thought he’d forgotten the promise. He hadn’t. He had just given the fulfillment of that grand, romantic gesture to another woman. Three months into their relationship, Rhodes brought Sylvia to see me. He handed me a document. Divorce papers. “Today is my one-hundredth day with Sylvia.” “Her only wish is to register the marriage with me. Aubrey, just for one day. We’ll register, and then we’ll immediately exchange the certificate back.” I looked at him, then at Sylvia, who nestled in his arms, her face presumptuous with favor. Like a bolt of lightning, I suddenly realized who she looked like. All rationality left me. I lunged forward, grabbing Sylvia’s hair and screaming. “Rhodes! Look at her face! She’s just me! Why would you fall for a replacement?! Why?!” Sylvia shrieked. Rhodes brutally shoved me away. I slammed onto the coffee table. Looking down, I saw a fruit knife had lodged, straight and true, into my stomach. Waking up in the hospital again, Rhodes was seated by the bed, his face gray and utterly despairing. The wound required a forced hysterectomy. The knife had also taken an already formed embryo. I wasn’t sterile. Our first child was lost when I miscarried after kneeling all night at his father’s estate. The second was lost when I starved myself into malnutrition, so Rhodes could eat one more meal. The third was when a business rival intentionally hit my car… I lost count of how many times I was pregnant for him, and how many times I lost them. I only remembered the last time the doctor told me: “Mrs. Victor, your health is too fragile. Forcing another pregnancy will kill you.” Rhodes was terrified. He held me tightly and promised, “We won’t have children, Aubrey. We’ll be child-free.” But I wanted a complete family with him so badly. And now, after all the fighting and sacrifice, I had completely lost the chance to become a mother. Rhodes’s tears were hot and remorseful. He swore, “It’s okay, Aubrey. We have each other, and that’s enough. I’ll treat you well from now on. I promise I’ll never let you be hurt again.” I couldn’t hear anything. My world was a vast emptiness. Sylvia, standing to the side, suddenly tugged on Rhodes’s shirt, her voice timid. “Rhodes, what happened to your sister-in-law was an accident. Don’t blame yourself too much.” “Let me tell you some good news. I’m pregnant. You can still be a father. Are you happy?” My head exploded in a deafening buzz. I found strength I didn’t know I had. I lunged from the bed, reaching for her. “Bitch! You did this on purpose!” Rhodes didn’t hesitate. He violently threw me back onto the hospital bed, spinning to shield Sylvia in his arms. “Aubrey Victor! What is wrong with you?!” “Sylvia just told you it was an accident! Why do you have to be so unforgiving?” He was panting, completely out of control. “If you couldn’t keep the baby, if you couldn’t keep your uterus, why don’t you look at yourself for a change?” The IV needle had been ripped from my hand. Blood was pouring onto the sheets. But I felt no pain. Only a cold, dead silence, spreading from my heart to every limb. Rhodes stared at me, then looked at the blood on my hand, his face paling as he finally realized what he’d said. He quickly released Sylvia and tried to approach me. “Aubrey, you’re bleeding! Nurse! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to…” I looked at him. The last light in my eyes went out. “Rhodes, let’s get a divorce.”