Ficorpio
Chapter 1
Chapter 1
I accidentally wandered into a dark-web assassin group while trying to set up a blind date, and I had absolutely no idea.
The admin dropped a batch of target photos into the chat. I took one look, picked the hottest guy in the lineup, and started tagging him like my life depended on it.
[I want this one!]
[This one’s mine. Please, I’m begging you, let me have him!]
[Nobody fight me for him. I want this one and only this one! drops to knees]
A little while later, the group admin added me for a private chat and sent over what looked like a résumé.
[He’s a tough one. You sure a rookie like you can handle it?]
The corner of my mouth lifted.
I might not have any experience with blind dates, but chasing men—okay, fine, harassing men?—that was a skill I’d spent my whole life perfecting.
[Don’t worry, man. I’ve been doing this since kindergarten.]
It took him a long time to reply.
[…]
[Then you’re probably the most dangerous person in this whole group.]
The group admin sent over an incredibly detailed profile—full of information you’d never find through a normal online search. Apparently, some things really did require taking the fast lane.
I hesitated, then messaged the admin.
Do I need to send him my résumé too?
Admin: ?
A little worried, I typed again: My background’s pretty average. What if he doesn’t like me?
Admin: …Does he get a say?
I went quiet.
Ethan Sterling. Born into a prestigious legacy healer family. One of the city’s standout young entrepreneurs. His companies stretched across entertainment media, e-sports, restaurants, medical devices—the kind of man who touched an industry and somehow made it thrive.
And he was handsome.
That outstanding, and he didn’t get to be picky?
Unless… he had some unspeakable flaw.
My confidence immediately came back.
Got it, I replied.
The admin sent several thumbs-up emojis. Exactly. People like us have no reason to feel inferior. He’s on a blind date tomorrow morning at the western restaurant in the Sterling Media building. Improvise. We’ll back you up from the sidelines.
The place was famous. The top floor of Sterling Media had originally been the company cafeteria, but the food got so popular they opened it to the public and turned it into a chain.
Every time a new location launched, they’d send one of the company’s hottest celebrities to do a photo shoot there, and traffic in the area would become a complete nightmare.
I was genuinely impressed by the level of service this blind-date operation provided.
Chapter 2
Chapter 2
You even do follow-up support? That’s amazing. Dinner’s on me sometime.
Admin: He’s not an ordinary target. His results count for the whole group. No need. People in our line of work don’t meet offline. We keep it online only. Better for both of us.
Understood.
An introvert.
The restaurant was upscale, so after getting my hair done, I rushed over to my best friend Zoe’s place that same night to borrow something nice to wear. Unfortunately, she wasn’t home. So I had to climb in through the window from outside, make my way in, and dig through her closet until I finally found something that fit.
I was so excited that it wasn’t until I’d climbed all the way back down from the fifteenth floor that it hit me—
I could’ve just used the door.
Whatever.
Not important.
The next day, I ended up running late because I’d somehow glued my false lashes on upside down.
Right as I reached the entrance, I brushed past a beautiful woman with anger written all over her face.
A handsome waiter stepped in front of me with a professional smile. “Good afternoon, ma’am. Do you have a reservation?”
I tossed my hair—my big curls had already started falling flat—and cleared my throat. “Of course. I’m here for a blind date with Mr. Sterling.”
He froze for half a second, then his smile snapped back into place. “This way, please.”
As he led me inside, I vaguely heard him mutter under his breath, “Mr. Sterling really is Mr. Sterling. Even blind dates have to be optimized for efficiency.”
It was my first time in a restaurant this fancy. Honestly? It was fine.
Probably the kind of place that looked better than the food tasted.
There weren’t many people there that day. The waiter guided me to a quiet, elegant corner table.
It was also the first time I’d ever seen Ethan Sterling in person.
He seemed to be trying to slide away the plate the server had just set in front of the seat opposite him.
I intercepted it halfway and smiled politely. “No need to be shy. I like cherries.”
Behind his gold-rimmed glasses, he looked at me with a dazed, slightly unfocused stare. “That’s foie gras.”
My hand tightened on the plate. I forced a smile. “I like foie gras too.”
He tugged harder. “I like it more.”
But he couldn’t pull it away.
The handsome waiter rushed over and whispered anxiously, “Sir, what are you doing? Mr. Vance specifically said you can only have one serving.”
Ethan adjusted his glasses, his eyes openly protective in a way that was almost childish. “Wouldn’t it be a waste not to eat it?”
The waiter looked even more panicked. “That one is for this young lady.”
Ethan frowned. “Why?”
The waiter covered his face. “Your blind date! She’s your blind date!”
Ethan looked horrified. “How many did the old man set me up with?”
Chapter 3
Chapter 3
The waiter looked just as horrified. “Keep your voice down!”
I said flatly, “I heard that.”
Then I applied a little pressure and set the foie gras firmly in front of myself.
The waiter took the opportunity to flee.
It took me about two seconds to recover.
It was fine. Ordinary people compared options on blind dates too. Rich people were just more efficient about it. So what? Was that a problem?
Even if it was, I could endure it.
I straightened up and introduced myself with what I felt was admirable grace. “Hello. I’m Chloe Carter.”
Ethan’s face settled back into calm, but something complicated flickered in his eyes. I could hear the caution in his voice. “Miss Carter, to be honest, I have no plans to get married. It’s just that my father—”
Before he could finish, the chandelier above us swayed.
I reacted on instinct and shoved the table hard. Ethan, chair and all, shot backward until he slammed against the wall.
With a creak, the framed painting above him suddenly fell—judging by the angle, straight for his head.
“Move!” I shouted.
He dodged in time, but unluckily crashed into the cabinet beside him. A vase on top of it immediately slid off the edge.
Good thing I was faster.
I caught it.
We hadn’t even finished panicking when a server bringing dishes slipped, and a steak knife on the tray flew straight toward Ethan’s eye—
I snatched it out of the air.
The tip stopped less than half an inch from his face.
His eyes were filled with shock and complete disbelief.
Meanwhile, the chandelier—the culprit that had started all this—hung there perfectly intact, as if the earlier sway had just been some private joke at our expense.
“Seriously, this crappy chandelier started it,” I muttered.
Ethan rose shakily to his feet. “Why are you blaming the chandelier?” he demanded, voice trembling. “Did the chandelier push me?”
He came over to my side, brows drawn tight. “Miss Carter, I don’t think there’s any need for us to continue this conversation. I don’t like dangerous things in my life.”
I was quiet for a moment, then sighed. “All right. Honestly, I didn’t want this blind date either. Could I add you on social media? I actually wanted to ask you about something work-related…”
I hadn’t even gotten to the important part when his expression changed. He grabbed me by the shoulder with one hand, hauled me against him, and backed up several steps before stopping.
Crash!
Something shattered behind me.
It took me a few seconds to process it, and then I got excited, pointing at the glittering pile of broken glass on the floor. “See? It fell! I told you there was something wrong with that light!”
Ethan didn’t say a word.
The tightness in his brow eased just a little, and his gaze turned deep and unreadable.
Chaos erupted around us. Waitstaff suddenly seemed to appear from every direction to clean up the mess. But I didn’t know why—maybe it was the instincts I’d built from years of martial arts training—I felt a strange chill creep over me.