Chapter 1By Day, By Night

My name is Angela. I’m the wife of Damian Sterling, the CEO of the Sterling Corporation, and the mother of his two sons.

You’d think that having two sons would mean I could walk on air in this high-society world. In circles like these, producing a male heir is the ultimate currency.

But I know the truth.

My two precious boys… they aren’t exactly normal.

They’re human by day, but at night, they turn into cats.

So, I’ve learned to keep my head down, to shrink into the background and make myself as small as possible. I live every day in a state of quiet terror, terrified that Damian will discover I’ve cheated on him.

The problem is, my supposed rival for his affections is a cat—and where the hell am I supposed to find the other man in that equation?

* * *

There’s a legend that runs through the Sterling family: because their ancestors were so ruthless, their hands so stained with the blood of their rivals, they were cursed with difficulty in conceiving.

For generations, there has only ever been a single heir. So when it came to choosing a wife, it wasn't just about beauty or family connections. The ability to bear sons was the ultimate trump card.

And I, Angela, just so happened to have a mother who was a master at it.

After my mom married my dad, she popped them out one after another. Other families might have two kids in three years; my mom had triplets in one go, cranking out six boys in just three years.

Six of them. All boys. Can you believe the nerve?

Even though we were constantly scraping by with so many mouths to feed, my mom walked with her chin held high, her voice booming with pride. In a world that worshipped sons, who could compete with her fertile womb? Who could dare challenge her track record?

Word of her legendary fertility spread, and as her only daughter, I became the town’s most sought-after prize. From the day I turned eighteen, our doorstep was worn thin by suitors.

In the end, it was the Sterling family’s offer that won. And just like that, I was married off.

My life’s new purpose: to carry on the family line. For a country girl suddenly thrust into the gilded cage of high society, the pressure was suffocating. But for a two-million-dollar marriage settlement, I swallowed my fears. I waved a tearful goodbye to my parents and six older brothers and climbed into the waiting limousine.

Of course, those weren’t tears of sorrow for my departure. They were tears of pain from chipping their teeth on gold.

My parents and brothers, bless their country-bumpkin hearts, had never seen real gold before. Their first instinct was to bite it. Every single one of them ended up with a broken tooth.

Watching the scene unfold, I wanted to scream, "Could you at least try to save me some face?"

That was one reason I left. The other was simpler: you don’t argue with a force of nature. Just try saying no to a billionaire family and see what happens.

When I first arrived at the Sterling estate, I was left alone for a month to learn etiquette.

The second month, I was sent to Damian Sterling’s bed.

My first impression of my benefactor? Mr. Sterling was young, formidable in bed, and visited my room with dutiful frequency.

As expected, a month later, I was pregnant. A wave of relief washed over me as the doctor confirmed the news. I hadn’t failed my family. I hadn’t tarnished our reputation as premier son-producers.

Ten months later, as the woman carrying Damian Sterling’s first son, I was the focus of the entire family. After a full day and night of labor, a piercing cry announced my success. I had delivered the heir.

Damian came to see the baby. He glanced into the swaddling clothes, his face a mask of indifference. "You’ve worked hard," he said, then turned and left without another word.

The Sterling matriarch, his mother, rushed in, her face etched with anxiety. She unwrapped the baby, inspecting every inch of him, before she too shook her head and walked out.

Their reactions sent a spike of panic through me. Was there something wrong with the son I had worked so hard to deliver?

I pushed myself up, ignoring the pain, and leaned over the bassinet to get a closer look at my newborn son.

Two eyes, a nose, a mouth. Five fingers, five toes.

I looked again. His lips were a perfect bow, his eyes bright and clear, his skin as smooth as porcelain. He was a beautiful baby. A cherub straight out of a Renaissance painting.

Not only was there nothing wrong with him, any other family would have been delirious with joy to have such a perfect, healthy boy.

I couldn’t understand it. Even if they didn’t praise me, shouldn’t they at least acknowledge my effort? Shouldn’t there be some kind of reward? They gave my family two million dollars just to marry me; now that I’d given them a living, breathing heir, there was nothing?

Or maybe they were just stunned with happiness, their brains short-circuiting?

Cradling my sweet-smelling little boy, I waited eagerly for my benefactor’s reward.

As night fell, I sent the nanny off to have her dinner, wanting a moment alone with my son.

But the reward never came. Instead, something happened that nearly scared me to death.

The sweet, milky-smelling baby in my arms… dissolved, right before my eyes, into a tiny black kitten.

It mewed softly, tumbling and rolling in the blankets on the bed.

Oh, my God. My father. My six brothers—what was happening?

Where was my son? My beautiful baby boy? Why was he a cat?

If I hadn't seen the transformation with my own eyes, I would never have believed it. I was certain I’d only ever been with Damian, that I hadn’t cheated. So how could my child be a… a hybrid?

How was this even possible?

I trembled as I watched over the tiny, furry creature all night, refusing to let anyone near the room. As the first rays of dawn touched the horizon, I was sure my life was over. A thousand different ways to die flashed through my mind, but none of them seemed quite right.