The Sterling Betrayal Chapter 1

n his last life, Asher Pei, an orphan adopted into a wealthy family, married his childhood sweetheart from the foster system, Elara Vance. He thought their shared lonely pasts would allow them to find warmth in each other. He was wrong. After twenty years, he discovered she had always been in love with his best friend, Julian Thorne. Crushed by the betrayal and public humiliation, Asher died by suicide.

He is reborn, given a second chance by a mysterious "System." This time, when his now-famous friend Julian proposes to Elara—knowing she's destined to become a world-renowned architect—Asher sidesteps his previous fate. He instead marries Seraphina Wilde, a beautiful actress who, in the last life, also met a tragic end. With a seemingly perfect marriage and a thriving career, Asher believes he's finally found happiness. He is wrong again.

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Asher Pei died of depression.

The final days of his life were a torturous haze of rage and confusion. The internet was a cacophony of mockery, a global chorus laughing at the man who couldn’t even hold on to his own wife’s heart. His wife of nearly twenty years, the girl he’d known for forty, had been in love with another man all along.

Asher couldn’t take it. He climbed over the railing of his fifteenth-floor balcony and let go. He was dead before he hit the pavement.

A cold, mechanical voice buzzed in his mind.

[Congratulations, Host. You have unlocked the "Rainy Night Truth" storyline.]

*What truth?*

Asher’s arm twitched. That voice again. It would pop up out of nowhere every time he hit some kind of narrative milestone, announcing a new plot point as if his life were a game.

“Mr. Pei? Asher? It’s time for the investor dinner.”

A heavy hand landed on his left shoulder, startling him. He turned to see his assistant’s smiling face. “You alright? You look like you didn’t sleep well last night.”

Asher rubbed his temples. Why did he keep having that dream? Elara’s voice still echoed in his ears, sharp and cruel.

*“I never loved you! It was always Julian! Always!”*

He took a deep breath. “Let’s go. My father is probably getting impatient.”

In his past life, just before he died, the System had asked him if he was filled with regret. He’d said yes. A vortex of light had swallowed him, and he’d woken up at eighteen, the day after Elara had rejected his first clumsy confession of love.

He was lost in thought again, and by the time he snapped out of it, he was already seated at a large, circular table in an exclusive private club. The atmosphere was convivial. Asher dutifully stood to refill his father’s wine glass throughout the evening. The lead investor was a Mr. Tang, a man in his fifties with the constitution of an ox. He’d poured drink after drink for Asher’s father, who was now slumped in his chair, flushed and incoherent.

Asher swirled the wine in his own glass, his eyes dark and empty, watching the bubbles rise and pop.

The dinner didn’t end until nearly midnight. It was April in New York, but the air still held a wintery bite. The city, however, was a galaxy of light, the distant glow of skyscrapers and neon signs bleeding into the black sky.

His father, emboldened by the alcohol, lectured him the entire ride home. “I know you’re worried about that Wilde girl, but you need to think bigger. You just need to manage that foundation project in Vermont for a couple of years. It’ll look incredible on your resume, silence any talk of nepotism when you take over as Chairman.”

His father coughed, and Asher silently handed him a thermos of warm water.

Sometime during the drive, it began to rain. As they crossed the bridge, the driver slammed on the brakes. The screech of tires on wet asphalt was deafening. Asher lurched forward, barely stopping himself from hitting the partition.

“Looks like there’s been an accident up ahead. We’re not getting through.”

The piercing wail of sirens sliced through the night. A police barricade was already in place. A moment later, a sharp rap on the window. A police officer was asking them to step out to give a statement.

The moment Asher opened the door, a cold, wet wind whipped at his neck. He opened a black umbrella, shielding his face. He hated scenes like this—too loud, too chaotic. He followed the officer, but before they even reached the police tape, he heard a familiar voice cut through the rain.

“Is it true? That you and Elara Vance are married? When did it happen? They said you pursued her for years, that it was love at first sight. Is that true?”

The questions came in a rapid-fire burst, the last few words swallowed by a clap of thunder. He froze. That voice…

Asher’s grip tightened on the umbrella handle. The alcohol still lingered in his system, slowing his thoughts. It had to be a hallucination. His wife, Seraphina, had just texted him saying she was going to bed.

But the voice was identical.

A sharp, inexplicable pain lanced through his chest, making it hard to breathe. He looked ahead, his eyes searching desperately through the flashing lights.

There she was. A woman in an eight-centimeter heel, her body wrapped in a sleek, grey cashmere dress that clung to her curves. Her skin looked impossibly white against the dress’s sparkling trim.

“Answer me, Julian!” she cried, her voice breaking. “You told me if I stayed married to Asher for three years, you’d leave her and marry me! Why did you break your promise?”

The man across from her ground out his cigarette with the heel of his shoe. “When did I break my promise?” Julian Thorne’s voice was a low, lazy drawl, yet every word landed like a hammer blow. “You and Asher haven't been married for three years yet, have you?”

“This was just a means to an end!”

The woman—his wife, Seraphina—was staring at Julian with such intensity she didn’t even notice Asher standing just a few yards away. “A means to an end? You married Elara! How is this just a means to an end?” she pleaded. “Julian, she’s from the foster system! What can she possibly do for your career? I’m one of the biggest stars in the country! Why won’t you just look at me!”

His assistant, noticing Asher’s strange stillness, whispered his name. “Mr. Pei… isn’t that… isn’t that Mrs. Pei?”

Asher had been married to Seraphina Wilde for nearly three years. And only now, in this rain-soaked nightmare, did he understand why she had agreed to their marriage so readily. It was because of Julian. He’d never seen the famously poised and elegant Seraphina look so desperate.

Suddenly, the electronic voice echoed in his head. [Warning, Host. If you die of depression in this life, you will be permanently erased.]

In a flash, it all came back. The agony of his past life, the horrific end. He had already been reborn once. Why was he being forced to live through this kind of hell again?

“Mr. Pei, are you okay?”

Asher snapped back to reality. He walked over to the officer, gave a brief statement, and left. He couldn’t bear to stay. He tilted his umbrella up slightly, stealing one last look. Julian had lit another cigarette, blowing the smoke directly into Seraphina’s face. She coughed but didn’t seem angry. Instead, she playfully tapped his arm.

“Stop it, Julian. You still haven’t answered me.”

Julian tipped her chin up with his finger. “Who ever said you have to marry the one you like the most?” he purred. “Sometimes, the favorite isn’t the one you keep at home.”

Julian Thorne. Asher’s high school classmate. His college roommate. A lightning flash illuminated Asher’s face, turning it a ghostly white. He turned and walked away.

By the time he got back to the car, his father was asleep. The assistant glanced at him in the rearview mirror. “Back to the family estate, Mr. Pei?”

Asher just grunted in affirmation. He was exhausted. He’d pulled an all-nighter finishing a proposal, spent all day in meetings, and endured the dinner. Now this. Another word and he felt like his head would split open.

The house was empty when he got there. Seraphina wasn’t home yet.

A message pinged on his phone. It was from his old university professor. He squatted on the floor for a long moment before opening it.

It was a long text. “Asher, have you made a decision about the director position for the foundation’s rural development project? I know it’s a hardship post, but it would be a phenomenal addition to your resume and would silence any critics when you join the Sterling board. The decision needs to be made today. This is a rare opportunity, and I personally hope you’ll take it. Of course, if you have personal reasons not to, I respect your choice.”

A tear fell onto the screen, blurring the words. Asher wiped it away with his sleeve and replied. “I’ve thought it over, Professor. I want to go. Thank you for the opportunity.”

He’d been considering it for a while. As an adopted son, a direct entry into the Sterling family business would be met with resistance from the board. This was a way to earn his place. He’d only hesitated because of Seraphina, worried that the distance would cause problems.

He was dozing on the sofa when he heard a key in the lock. He sat up, his mind clearing, just as Seraphina walked in.

“You’re still awake,” she said, kicking off her heels. She tossed her coat onto the floor.

“I was asleep. A work issue came up. Then on the way back, there was that awful accident. The police held me for questioning, that’s why I’m so late.” Her story was seamless. Except for the part where she was meeting Julian.

Asher could smell the lingering scent of her perfume mixed with the faint, acrid smell of tobacco. “Someone said they saw you with Julian Thorne,” he said, his voice flat.

Seraphina froze, her jaw tightening. “Oh, right. I ran into him. He and Elara just got married, you know. Such big news, and we didn't even get to congratulate them. Especially since you and Elara grew up together.”

Asher took off his glasses, his eyes narrowing. “Is that right? Seraphina, why did you marry me?”

She was already on edge, and his question pushed her over. “Why did I marry you? For nothing! What could I possibly want? My fame? The publicity my name brings to yours?”

“Seraphina, all I ever wanted was a heart that was true to me!”

A wave of bitterness rose in his throat. Before he could say more, she cut him off. “Did you drink too much at your dinner? Are you even thinking straight? Talk to me when you’re sober. I’m exhausted.”

The bedroom door slammed shut. The house fell silent.

The clock read 3 a.m. Asher stepped onto the balcony, the cold air a shock to his system. He lit a cigarette, his mind racing. If Seraphina and Julian were in love, why did she die of depression in the last life? He remembered her final moments: imprisoned by Julian, her body decaying, her eyes wide with unseeing horror. And if Elara and Julian were in love, why was he stringing Seraphina along?

None of it made sense. The wind, the distant rain, the vast, empty silence of the city—it felt like shards of glass in his heart. He absurdly called out to the System, hoping for an answer. There was none.

He didn't know when he finally fell asleep. When he woke, the apartment was empty. Seraphina was already at a photo shoot.

The doorbell rang. He ignored it. It rang again, patiently.

“Delivery for Ms. Wilde. We have the gift she ordered.”

*A gift? For whom?*

Asher opened the door. The box contained an expensive, beautiful watch and a blue-and-black silk tie.

“Ms. Wilde has exquisite taste,” the delivery person gushed. “Mr. Pei is a lucky man to have such a thoughtful wife.” The man’s smile faltered as he noticed the veins standing out on the back of Asher’s hand.

“Mr. Pei?”

“Today isn’t my birthday,” Asher said quietly. If he remembered correctly, today was Julian’s birthday.

“My birthday was yesterday.” He hadn’t planned on celebrating. He’d told himself Seraphina was just too busy with work. But now he knew the truth. She hadn’t forgotten. She had remembered Julian’s.

A bitter smile touched his lips. “Thank you for bringing this by.”

He was calm, eerily so. He changed into a suit and prepared to leave for the office. His phone buzzed.

Seraphina: Darling, I forgot to change the delivery address. That’s Julian’s birthday present. Dinner is at S Hotel tonight. Come with me.

Asher’s fingers tapped the screen.

Asher: No.