From Mrs. Sterling To Ms. CEO Novel by Rely _ Novel




From Mrs. Sterling To Ms. CEO Chapter 01

When the Washington media voted for "Washington's most respectable wife of a rich and powerful family," I took first place by a landslide.
Because my husband, Alexander Sterling, and my stepsister, Chloe Sinclair, had been entangled for three years, and I had never once lost my composure.
On her birthday, a single phone call lured him away from my celebration banquet.
I blocked the media for him, smoothed things over, and even attended the next day's project press conference as usual.
When paparazzi photographed them embracing on a yacht until dawn, I didn't make a scene.
I just had the PR department suppress the trending topics to third place.
Everyone praised me for being understanding and keeping the big picture in mind.
Until that day, when Chloe nestled in Alexander's arms, smiling at me with pure, harmless innocence.
"Victoria Kensington, can I borrow your wedding ring for a day?
“I'm not trying to steal it.
“I just feel it's unfair to you—look, it's so old.
“Has Alexander never thought of getting you a new one?
“I just want to wear it for a day to show him how terrible his taste is."
The next second, I raised my hand and slapped her across the face.
＊＊＊
When my slap landed, the entire living room fell dead silent.
Chloe clutched her face, tears welling up almost instantly as she shrank back into Alexander's arms with red eyes.
Alexander instinctively shielded her behind him, frowning at me, his tone laced with extreme impatience.
"Victoria, are you crazy?"
I ignored him.
I only stared at the hand wearing the wedding ring.
It was a very old, plain band.
Made of platinum, the design was simple, perhaps even too plain.
Compared to the Sterlings' jewelry that easily cost tens of millions, it was so ordinary that it didn't look like something the wife of a rich and powerful family should wear.
Seeing my silence, Alexander seemed to think I would swallow my grievances just like before.
"Chloe just wanted to borrow it for a day to take a few photos. Besides, she was doing it for your own good—"
His voice softened a bit, but still carried that sense of entitlement.
I looked up at him.
He froze for a moment under my gaze.
"For my own good?" I sneered.
"Victoria, don't misunderstand.
“I just feel... you've sacrificed so much for the Sterlings, but Alexander never seems to notice.
“I just wanted to show him that you deserve better."
Chloe cowered behind him, her eyes red.
Her voice was as light as a feather, yet every word was laced with hidden barbs.
As she spoke, her eyes flicked toward Alexander, carrying a hint of grievance and a plea for credit.
But upon hearing her words, Alexander's expression shifted repeatedly.
The maids standing nearby all lowered their heads.
I only found it ridiculous.
Back when the Sterlings' debt exploded, their capital chain broke, banks demanded repayment, and their mansions were seized, everyone in Washington was waiting to see how this century-old family would collapse.
At that time, Chloe ran faster than anyone else.
Thinking Alexander was a bottomless pit, she left without looking back to enter an arranged marriage, terrified of being tainted by the Sterlings' bad luck.
It was me, the sister who supposedly "stole her place," who withstood the pressure from the Kensington board of directors to marry into the Sterling family.
I negotiated credit lines for the Sterling Group one by one, and cleaned up Alexander's messes time after time.
Now that the Sterlings had recovered, she was suddenly lecturing me about "deserve better."
I looked down and gently twisted the wedding ring on my ring finger.
On the inner band, there was a line of very fine engraving.
Pressed against my skin all these years, it had been worn almost smooth and shiny.
"I can give up the position of Mrs. Sterling.
"But not this ring."
My voice was ice-cold.
Alexander's face instantly darkened.
"Victoria, do you really have to embarrass her over an old ring today?" He reached out as he spoke, trying to grab my hand.
The next second—
Slap!
I backhanded him, slapping him hard across the face.
His head snapped to the side, and even the air seemed to freeze.
What flashed through his eyes wasn't anger, but a kind of bewildered astonishment.
He probably never imagined that I—his ever-sensible, ever-dignified wife who always cleaned up his messes—would actually strike him.
"Alexander, if you touch it again, we're getting a divorce."
I stared at him, enunciating every single word.

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