Her Pregnancy, My Freedom Chapter 1

Damien Sterling’s golden canary was pregnant and flew the coop.

He was frantic, scurrying like ants on a hot skillet, pulling every string, every contact in the industry. He even flew abroad himself to smooth things over with her.

"When she returns, make sure she gets the Best Actress award," he ordered me, just before leaving.

"Will you… will you be back?" I asked him, my voice barely a whisper.

He snatched the documents from my hand with an impatient sigh. "Of course I'll be back. Can't you bear to be without me for a single day?" He scribbled his signature, then tossed the papers aside and walked out.

He was in such a rush, he didn't even glance at what he'd signed – our divorce papers.

* * *

I had been married to Damien Sterling for seven years, during which he kept countless mistresses. For the most part, I simply turned a blind eye.

That was until Melody Sinclair appeared.

She was the reigning beauty of the Dance Academy, the epitome of the innocent ingenue, seemingly untouched by the grime of the world. When she met Damien, she claimed she wanted neither money nor fame – only to marry him.

Unfortunately for her, Damien could give her anything but a marriage. To compensate, he poured immense resources into her career, transforming her from an unknown student into a top-tier star. He shielded her from every industry predator, had seasoned Oscar winners play her sidekick, and generally spoiled her rotten. According to his meticulously laid plans, she was on the verge of becoming a major A-lister.

But then, at the most critical juncture of her career, she got pregnant.

So she flew the coop, with the baby-to-be. And, just to twist the knife, she chose our seventh wedding anniversary to do it.

"Madam, Mr. Sterling is truly leaving!" Daisy, my assistant, burst into the room, her voice laced with urgency. "Aren't you going to stop him? Didn't Mr. Sterling promise you…?"

Damien had promised to spend our seventh anniversary with me. I’d meticulously planned everything for months.

A sudden memory surfaced: the first time I saw Melody. Damien had announced he was going to the Dance Academy to scout for a new actress, claiming he’d found someone with incredible potential. As a producer for his company, I should have gone, of course.

She was in the dance studio, twirling through a ballet routine, as graceful and ethereal as a butterfly. Yet, the moment Damien turned away, she leaned close to my ear, a cold sneer twisting her delicate features. "Auntie, at your age, can you really keep Mr. Sterling interested?" she whispered, her eyes raking over me. "Do you even have any femininity left?"

She wasn't entirely wrong. In every superficial aspect, she surpassed me.

I offered a quiet smile, then calmly folded the divorce papers on the table. "Daisy, please help me find the jade bracelet my mother left me." It was my only tangible memory of her.

I called my lawyer, instructing him to audit the companies registered under my name and prepare for a change in management. Then, I had the household staff meticulously erase every trace of "me" from the sprawling villa. Finally, I packed my personal belongings.

There wasn't much, truly. Just a few gifts.

This Cartier necklace, he gave me for my twenty-eighth birthday.

This Hermès bag, a surprise from last year’s wedding anniversary.

These wedding rings, custom-made, one of a kind, with our initials intricately carved into the inner bands.

He had once been so good to me, making me mistakenly believe I was his one and only. But it only took six months for the affairs to begin.

"Vivienne, don't you have any friends? Why do you always have to cling to me?"

"Vivienne, I’m busy. I don't have time to coddle you!"