Chapter 1The Curse of Betrayal

The whispers claimed a curse clung to the Sterling men, a dark shadow that ensured any woman who dared betray them would face a grim fate—death or disfigurement. Elite society, from Manhattan to the Hamptons, heard these tales and recoiled, the most coveted debutantes shying away from any Sterling suitor.

Yet, Natalie Hayes, who’d grown up beside me, defied her family, slipping into a pristine white gown to propose.

“Ethan,” she’d murmured, her voice steady, “I don’t fear any curse. Because I will never betray you.”

Her words resonated deep within me, stirring something fragile and profound. I married her.

Five years into our marriage, her first love, Dylan Miller, returned from overseas. His reappearance ignited a relentless storm of arguments between us, each one deepening the rift. The breaking point arrived when Natalie, who had insisted on our agreement to remain child-free, was discovered to be carrying Dylan’s baby. To circumvent the curse, set to activate seven days hence, I initiated divorce proceedings.

But Natalie tore the divorce papers to confetti, a sneer twisting her lips. “Ethan Sterling, you really think I’d believe your family’s silly curse? I’d like to see you lay a finger on me!”

In the city’s most exclusive circles, bets were placed. Everyone was gambling on whether Natalie would face the curse’s wrath, or if I’d swallow this bitter humiliation, becoming the laughingstock of the East Coast elite.

I didn't linger, didn't argue further. I simply turned and walked away. I had offered her a chance to live, out of deference to the years we’d shared. She simply hadn't cherished it.

…

I’d barely stepped out of the Hayes mansion when Natalie’s guards blocked my path.

“Ethan Sterling, I’m pregnant! Where do you think you’re going, abandoning me like this?” she demanded, her tone self-righteous. “Dylan said he’s too rough, too preoccupied with his own affairs. He said I still needed you to take care of me.”

My gaze turned to ice. “And you’re not afraid I might harm the child?”

Before I could finish, the wine glass in her hand splintered against my cheek.

“Ethan Sterling, how dare you threaten me? Watch yourself! Don’t forget, your father is still in a coma at the hospital, his life clinging to the expensive medication only my family provides!”

My hands clenched into fists, my body trembling with suppressed rage. Blood mixed with red wine streamed down my face. She’d forgotten, hadn’t she? Forgotten that my father had taken a blade meant for her, scarring his brain and leaving him trapped in silence.

Just then, Dylan Miller strode over, a towel in hand, his voice dripping with condescension. “Mr. Sterling, you two have been married for years and no children. Are you even capable of having kids? Maybe the problem lies with you. But don’t worry, I’m a generous man. I don’t mind if my and Natalie’s child carries your name.”

He offered me the towel. I was about to refuse, but then he suddenly collapsed backward, his hands gushing blood from the wine glass shards.

Natalie rushed forward, slapping me across the face. “Ethan Sterling, you dare to bully Dylan in front of me? Drop to your knees and beg his forgiveness, or I’ll unplug your father’s life support!”

I wiped the blood from my lips, a chilling smile spreading across my face. “I’ll kneel, Natalie. But I wonder if Mr. Miller can bear the consequences that would follow…”

Dylan, seeing the glint of malice in my eyes, felt an inexplicable unease. He quickly urged Natalie, “Natalie, let’s just drop it. Everyone’s watching.”

Natalie helped him up, her eyes brimming with concern, then led him towards a private room with a doctor. As she passed me, she stopped. “Guards! Lock Ethan Sterling in the isolated guest suite! Don’t let him out without my permission!”

I stared at her retreating back. “Natalie Hayes, you’ll regret this.”

She let out a cold laugh. “Still trying to scare me with that cursed nonsense? Ethan Sterling, spare me the theatrics!”

Watching her silhouette, resolute and unyielding, I sighed internally. If only she had agreed to the divorce, perhaps the curse would have never claimed its due.