Ficorpio
Chapter 1
For three years, I served as the privileged heir Ethan Sterling’s personal lackey. Then his family told him to win over the woman he was supposed to marry.
Ethan, clearly irritated, handed me his WhatsApp account and ordered me to message her for him.
“If you ruin this, you’re dead.”
With no choice, I racked my brain every day for new ways to sweet-talk Claire Ashford. After three months of chatting with her as Ethan, she became more and more proactive.
Then, one day, she messaged my account and asked me to take a gift upstairs to Ethan.
Without thinking, I replied:
“Okay, thanks, baby!”
The other end went silent.
I sent the message, climbed out of bed, and went to wash up. By the time I was fully awake, I remembered Claire’s message and picked up my phone to check where she’d left the gift.
Then I opened the chat.
After my reply, Claire hadn’t responded with her usual warmth and patience. She’d simply sent back a cold question mark.
Her previous message read:
“I prepared a gift for Ethan and left it downstairs by the dormitory. Remember to bring it up to him.”
A terrible feeling crept over me. With trembling hands, I backed out of the conversation and opened it again.
I repeated the process several times.
At last, I discovered the horrifying truth.
I was logged into my own account.
Not the secondary account Ethan had given me.
And my message—Thanks, baby!—was already past the window for deletion.
I frantically considered how to fix it. After sorting through every excuse I could think of, I settled on the most reasonable one:
“Sorry, I sent that to the wrong person. It was meant for a friend.”
“I’ll bring the gift up to Ethan shortly.”
Once I’d sent the messages, I waited anxiously.
After a while, thankfully, Claire didn’t press the matter. She replied simply:
“Mm. Thank you.”
I couldn’t help letting out a breath of relief.
Then I switched back to the secondary WhatsApp account Ethan had given me.
Claire’s messages appeared almost at once. Her tone had changed completely from the coldness she’d shown me moments earlier.
“Baby, I’m coming home.”
“When I get back, can we talk about setting a date for our engagement?”
The breath I’d just released caught in my throat again.
Ever since my freshman year, I had been Ethan Sterling’s hired lackey, taking care of every detail of his daily life so I could cover my grandmother’s medical bills.
Then, three months ago, Sterling Holdings ran into a cash-flow crisis.
Ethan was sent into a strategic marriage alliance and ordered to win over the Ashford family’s eldest daughter, Claire Ashford.
Claire was still abroad then, so Ethan tried to get close to her through WhatsApp first.
For three days, he checked in on her, asked after her health, tried to make conversation. She stayed distant through all of it.
Ethan had never been treated so coldly in his life. Fortunately, the account he’d used to add Claire wasn’t his primary one.
In a fit of temper, he handed the phone to me.
Chapter 2
“Message her for me,” he said. Then his eyes narrowed. “And if you screw it up, you’re dead.”
I took the phone. I couldn’t afford to lose the job, so I forced myself to start talking to her.
Every morning, the moment I opened my eyes, I was already wracking my brain for something sweet to say. I went through her social media, learning what she liked and searching for topics that might interest her.
Slowly, she began saying more.
Then she started reaching out to me first.
And that was how three months passed.
Until today, when Claire told me she was coming home to discuss the engagement.
I knew then that this job was finally over.
I immediately put together a detailed file, recording everything I had learned about Claire Ashford over the past three months: her likes and dislikes, her habits, and all the little details Ethan would need to know when talking to her.
Only after I finished did I head downstairs, collect the gift Claire had bought, and make my way to Ethan Sterling’s apartment.
When I arrived, Ethan was sprawled across the couch. Several gift boxes were already piled beside him.
I handed him Claire’s present and explained where it had come from.
Ethan opened the box.
Inside was a small, exquisitely made bunny plush from a limited-edition collection.
He examined it for a long moment, then curled his lip in disdain.
“That’s it? Some stupid stuffed animal?”
I lowered my eyes. “I must have told her I thought bunnies were cute, so she probably chose it because of that.”
Ethan tossed the plush at me.
“Do whatever you want with it. Next time, remember to tell her I’m into diamond watches. Got it?”
My fingers tightened around the bunny he had discarded so casually.
“Got it.”
Then I reminded him, “She said she’s coming home. The two of you will be meeting soon.”
I hesitated before adding, “You should probably start handling the messages yourself from now on.”
To my surprise, Ethan shook his head. He raised his phone and showed me his message list.
“See all these women? Keeping up with them already takes enough of my time. You can keep talking to Claire for me.”
I fell silent.
After a long pause, I had no choice but to nod again.
I sent him the file I had prepared. “These are some of her preferences and details from our conversations. Read through it before you meet her.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Ethan barely glanced at it. “You nag too much.”
There was nothing more for me to say.
A few days later, Claire returned from abroad.
Ethan got ready and brought me along to her welcome-home dinner.
I carried his bag for him. Just as we reached the private dining room, one of the women he had been flirting with called.
Ethan told me to go in first, then stepped into a quiet corner to answer the phone.
I nodded and pushed open the door.
Before I could get a clear look at anyone inside, someone took the bag from my hand.
A second later, soft, slender fingers slipped around mine.
The delicate scent of a woman’s perfume enveloped me.
Chapter 3
A lazy voice, warm with amusement, sounded beside my ear.
“Look at you, being so good today. You even brought the bag I gave you.”
I had heard that voice countless times through the phone.
Now it was real, close enough to make my breath catch.
I looked at her awkwardly.
At that same moment, Claire Ashford finally got a proper look at the person standing before her.
She froze.
Then she released my hand at once and muttered under her breath, “Sorry. I thought you were someone else.”
Ethan had just finished his call when he looked over, puzzled.
“What are you doing standing by the door?”
Claire’s expression smoothed over almost immediately. She took Ethan’s hand again and smiled.
“Waiting for you.”
The brief interruption passed without comment.
Ethan settled in quickly. Before long, he was laughing and chatting easily with everyone in the private dining room.
I sat quietly beside him. No one paid much attention to me, which suited me just fine.
A little later, Ethan peeled a shrimp and leaned toward Claire, offering it to her.
The room fell abruptly silent.
Ethan blinked, clearly confused.
My eyelid twitched. He obviously hadn’t bothered to read the notes I’d prepared for him.
Claire was allergic to seafood. I’d even put it in bold red letters.
Claire frowned slightly and lifted her eyes to Ethan.
Before he could give himself away, I hurriedly whispered, “She’s allergic to seafood.”
Ethan reacted fast. He turned his hand and popped the shrimp into his own mouth instead, then gave Claire a playful wink.
“I know you can’t eat shrimp. I was only letting you smell it.”
Claire couldn’t hold back a soft laugh.
The crisis dissolved so quietly that no one else seemed to notice it. At last, I let out the breath I’d been holding.
After dinner, they started a game of Truth or Dare.
Halfway through, Ethan asked Claire to pass him his bag.
Mine had been set down beside his. When Claire reached for Ethan’s, she accidentally knocked mine to the floor.
Everything inside spilled across the carpet.
And there, under the bright overhead lights, was the limited-edition bunny plush.
Panic surged through me. I bent down at once, hoping to grab it before anyone noticed.
Then Claire’s voice drifted down from above me, unreadable.
“Why do you have this plush?”
In an instant, I came up with a dozen excuses.
I could say Ethan had asked me to hold it for him. Or that I owned the same one.
But every excuse sounded flimsy.
I really did like bunnies. When Ethan had tossed the plush to me, I had sat there in silence for a long time before carefully tucking it into the deepest part of my bag.
I had rushed out this morning and accidentally brought it with me.
My mind went blank. Before I could figure out how to explain myself, Ethan, panicked and guilty, raised his voice.
“Avery, how could you steal my things?”
His eyes reddened as he went on.