Ficorpio
Chapter 1
My fiancée had been secretly supporting a teenage boy.
As I drove past his school, I saw the boy tugging at the faded sleeve of a girl’s shirt.
“Claire,” he called. “Claire, wait!”
The girl had delicate, elegant features and a graceful figure, like a lotus rising from still water. Yet there was something clean and austere about her presence, like a slender birch tree.
“Bring her over,” I said.
“Sir?”
I lowered the window and spoke in an even tone. “It’s nothing. I just thought I’d support her too.”
Thomas Reed had always been frighteningly efficient.
The girl Noah Parker had called Claire soon appeared in front of me.
By the time she was brought in, I was already looking through her file.
Claire Hayes.
She was strikingly beautiful. Even her identification photo had captured her refined, otherworldly elegance. Judging by her features alone, she could have outshone the latest breakout actress whose face was plastered across every billboard in the city.
But her current condition was far from good. She looked exhausted, with a faint, unmistakable air of weariness about her.
I understood at once. She must have run into trouble.
Claire’s parents had both died. Her family was poor, and she had only her grandmother, who had recently been diagnosed with mid-to-late-stage liver cancer and was lying in a hospital bed.
From childhood, Claire had been an exceptional student. She had worked part-time to help support the household, then earned admission to Avery University as the school’s top science student.
Everyone who knew her spoke highly of her. Her academic record and personal history were nearly flawless.
Noah was her neighbor. The two of them had grown up together—childhood sweethearts in everything but name.
But the boy made no effort to hide his feelings.
His admiration for Claire was obvious.
No wonder Victoria Ashford had been so furious about it.
Victoria Ashford was usually spoiled and arrogant.
I had never seen her display particularly intense emotions. Lately, though, she had been constantly distracted, her eyes dark with barely restrained malice.
Yesterday, before I even reached her office, I heard her on the phone.
Her tone carried the imperious reprimand of a wealthy woman accustomed to being obeyed, along with a clear warning.
“Noah, your exams are coming up. Your studies need to come first. And be careful about how close you get to the people around you. There are boundaries you need to respect.”
Her usual lofty tone couldn’t hide the jealousy burning beneath it.
My hand paused before I could knock.
I had already booked us a table for dinner, but suddenly, I no longer had any desire to eat with her.
Chapter 2
Over the years, Victoria’s attitude toward me had grown visibly more perfunctory. Even her verbal greetings sounded strictly businesslike. She never cared who I was with or what I was doing.
But that was how she treated everyone.
Until news reached me that she had begun financially supporting a struggling student.
Victoria Ashford had never been the charitable type.
Yet for Noah, she had rented out an entire field of flowers, taken him sailing to watch the sunrise, walked with him through every corner of the city, and spent a fortune securing him a placement in an exchange-student program.
She even got jealous like some lovesick college girl.
Everyone laughed and said she was keeping a high-school boy.
My first reaction had been displeasure. Then I decided I should cut off the relationship.
After all, Victoria was someone I had been devoted to for years.
“Sir.” Uncle Thomas frowned, hesitating. “About Miss Ashford supporting that boy…”
Thomas Reed was the butler my family had personally chosen for me. He was fiercely loyal without being rigid, and some of the methods he used when handling problems could hardly be called aboveboard.
His expression was grim. He looked ready to deal with Noah—the thorn in my side—on my behalf.
“Let’s go.” I cut him off.
Never mind.
Making a scene would be pointless, and I had no interest in dragging the matter into the open.
Victoria had deliberately kept it from me. Even if I uncovered the truth, what would I gain?
Would I throw the evidence in her face and force her to admit it?
From her perspective, that might amount to forcing her to choose.
She might choose me. After all, she had done exactly that in the past.
The Bennett Family was an untouchable giant, and its only son, Ethan Bennett, was an eccentric man with limited mobility.
I was a prize everyone coveted.
Or perhaps, to put it another way, I was a corpse already beginning to rot. Even with the stench rising from it, a flock of vultures still circled overhead, impatient to tear me apart.
I was the strategic marriage partner they all criticized yet desperately wanted.
No matter how unwilling Victoria was, she would still protect our barely existent engagement.
Just as she always had.
Whenever my temper flared and I suddenly turned cold toward her, she would only look at me with complete indifference.
Then, once I had calmed down, she would send me a gift as an apology.
The gift had probably been chosen by her assistant. Sometimes it was a watch. Sometimes it was a tie. Neither suggested much thought.
But I never needed her to say anything. I would forgive her almost effortlessly.
After all, everyone said I liked Victoria. That I loved her more than anything.
I had never denied it, because I had believed it myself.
But now, whenever I thought about that possibility, a faint nausea rose in my stomach.
It felt disgusting.
Yet I had never felt that way before.
Chapter 3
My reflection stared back at me through the glass, my face so pale it was almost bloodless.
I gazed at myself, lost in thought.
When Thomas realized I had no intention of speaking, he fell silent as well. He simply wheeled me away.
My health had always been poor, and I had limited mobility.
It wasn’t that I couldn’t walk at all. I was simply too weak to stand for long.
But when Claire Hayes saw me sitting in a wheelchair, she didn’t look at me with the pity or shock everyone else showed. She didn’t even glance at my legs. Instead, she lowered her eyes with perfect composure, her expression calm and gentle.
Uncle Thomas explained the terms of my financial sponsorship: exceptionally generous and flexible conditions. If she met my requirements, she could even receive a sum large enough to secure a comfortable future for her family.
Claire’s fingers tightened around the sleeve of her jacket.
Every gift fate offered came with a clearly marked price.
There was no way she didn’t understand that nothing in this world came free.
Thomas handled things with his usual thoroughness. Noticing her hesitation, he explained that she had simply been selected as the beneficiary of an investment under a charitable initiative.
I said nothing, though I thought the explanation was unnecessary.
I was certain Claire wouldn’t refuse.
She had probably been pushed so far that she could barely breathe.
Victoria Ashford had never openly targeted Claire. She didn’t need to. All it took was the slightest hint of displeasure, and there would always be someone eager to curry favor with her.
Someone might effortlessly destroy Claire’s job, push her grandmother out of her hospital bed, then spread enough rumors to make sure Claire had nowhere left to stand at school, either.
Destroying a young woman was far too easy.
When someone had been driven into a dead end, what room did she have left to refuse?
Who else could she turn to? Whom could she ask what she had done wrong?
Yet from beginning to end, Claire never said yes.
Not until Thomas left and quietly closed the door behind him.
“Mr. Sterling.” Claire’s eyes were clear and steady as she asked with complete candor, “What do I have to give in return?”
I felt vaguely uncomfortable. I lay across the table to rest, taking a long moment before answering with a low hum.
Claire noticed that I wasn’t well. When I failed to respond, she hesitated for a while, then poured me a glass of warm water.
Her slender, pale fingers pushed the ceramic mug toward me. They had the smooth, almost luminous quality of polished stone.
Then I saw her speak.
I couldn’t hear her voice. I could only watch her beautifully shaped lips move. She seemed to be asking whether she should call Uncle Thomas back.