My marriage to Harrison Sterling III was a political merger, a meticulously designed union between two powerful D.C. dynasties. I was Ellie Vance Sterling, the poised, pragmatic wife, dedicated to power and legacy, not fleeting romance. Everything changed when Harry was "rescued" by Skyler Reed, a common waitress who boldly followed him back to our world. She was loud, disruptive, and claimed Harry's love, threatening to expose our family's carefully crafted image. When Skyler triumphantly announced her pregnancy, I calmly declared my own, ensuring my son's place as the legitimate heir. But the true horror unfolded when I discovered a secret: an "heirloom" bracelet, given to me and other Sterling wives, actually contained compounds to suppress fertility. It meant my accidental breakage of the bracelet allowed my conception, revealing a chilling family conspiracy to control who bore heirs. Then came the fire, deliberately set in my wing of the house-a terrifying attempt to erase me and my unborn son from existence. How could my own husband, bound by contract and public duty, attempt such a heinous act? The revelation shattered any remaining illusion of family loyalty, replacing it with a burning certainty of cold-blooded betrayal. With my son's life and our dynastic future at stake, I made my decision: I would invoke the Vance family's formidable protection, rise from these ashes, and secure my child's legacy, no matter the brutal cost.
My marriage to Harrison Sterling III was a political merger, a meticulously designed union between two powerful D.C. dynasties.
I was Ellie Vance Sterling, the poised, pragmatic wife, dedicated to power and legacy, not fleeting romance.
Everything changed when Harry was "rescued" by Skyler Reed, a common waitress who boldly followed him back to our world.
She was loud, disruptive, and claimed Harry's love, threatening to expose our family's carefully crafted image.
When Skyler triumphantly announced her pregnancy, I calmly declared my own, ensuring my son's place as the legitimate heir.
But the true horror unfolded when I discovered a secret: an "heirloom" bracelet, given to me and other Sterling wives, actually contained compounds to suppress fertility.
It meant my accidental breakage of the bracelet allowed my conception, revealing a chilling family conspiracy to control who bore heirs.
Then came the fire, deliberately set in my wing of the house-a terrifying attempt to erase me and my unborn son from existence.
How could my own husband, bound by contract and public duty, attempt such a heinous act?
The revelation shattered any remaining illusion of family loyalty, replacing it with a burning certainty of cold-blooded betrayal.
With my son's life and our dynastic future at stake, I made my decision: I would invoke the Vance family's formidable protection, rise from these ashes, and secure my child's legacy, no matter the brutal cost.
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