Ficorpio
Chapter 1
Chapter 1
When I was eighteen, I walked in on Adrian Sterling fastening the bra of a scholarship girl named Lila Quinn.
His face had been solemn, his movements awkward and inexperienced.
At twenty-six, I did what my family asked and married him.
But everyone in old-money Manhattan society knew he kept a portrait of that scholarship girl locked in his study.
In the third year of our marriage, I asked for a divorce.
He was silent for a long time before he signed the divorce settlement agreement.
“If you ever need anything in the future,” he said, “just ask.”
Later, I attended a gala on the arm of a law firm partner.
One of our old friends joked, “Back then, the two of you went for each other’s throats in debate club. Who would’ve guessed you’d end up walking in hand in hand?”
That same night, months after the last time, Adrian’s number lit up on my phone again.
“Did you insist on taking that riverfront penthouse because from there you could see his law firm?”
Outside the window, the winter wind howled, whipping dead leaves against the glass. Inside, the heat was turned high, and the room felt like spring.
The man sitting across from me on the sofa was dressed in an immaculate suit, his posture straight and controlled.
His face was almost unchanged from the one I remembered at eighteen—sharp-boned, striking, unreadable. Only the fresh cut near his temple looked out of place, raw and angry under the warm light.
An hour earlier, I’d gotten a call from the police precinct.
Adrian Sterling had been in a fight.
By the time I arrived, the hallway was crowded. Lila Quinn was standing in front of him, holding his face in both hands. Between her fingers was a cotton swab soaked in antiseptic, and she was dabbing carefully at the wound, her eyes full of distress.
The second she saw me, she jumped back like a startled deer, nearly dropping the swab.
Adrian stepped in front of her immediately, shielding her behind him. His brows drew together as he said to me with open displeasure, “She scares easily. Don’t upset her.”
I said nothing. I simply followed the officer to handle the paperwork.
By the time I finished signing forms and giving my statement, Lila was gone.
On the drive home, Adrian stayed on his phone the entire time. He didn’t say a single word to me.
Even now, he was still sitting there on the sofa, speaking softly into the call, coaxing the person on the other end with endless patience.
“Don’t be scared. I’ll come over as soon as I’m done here. Lock the door, and don’t open it for anyone.”
I had never seen this side of Adrian before.
Chapter 2
Chapter 2
There was so much tenderness in his expression, so much indulgence in the set of his eyes. Even his voice had slowed, as though he’d gathered up every ounce of patience in his life and given it all to Lila Quinn.
It was in that moment, with absolute clarity, that the thought of divorce first took shape in my mind.
If Adrian and I were what people liked to call childhood sweethearts, then Lila Quinn was the one that got away—the woman he had hidden in the deepest part of his heart, the one he loved and could never truly have.
The three of us met in high school.
Adrian and I came from the same world: wealthy families, private drivers, lives so comfortable we never had to think about money. We often left school together after class, the way we always had. Lila was different. She was the scholarship girl in our class, from a struggling family, but she was beautiful in a quiet, striking way. She was brilliant, upbeat, hardworking, and carried herself with a kind of stubborn resilience that made people look twice.
She had barely transferred in before Adrian’s attention shifted completely to her.
Back then, I told myself it was temporary. A passing obsession. Nothing more than the thrill of someone new.
I was wrong.
One day, word spread that Lila had been accused of stealing class funds. Before anyone could sort out the truth, a group of girls dragged her into the girls’ bathroom.
The moment I heard, I ran there.
When I shoved open the door, the other girls were already gone. The bathroom was empty except for Lila, crouched on the floor with her shirt off. Her back was damp, her shoulders shaking with sobs. Her torn school blouse lay crumpled nearby.
I had just pulled off my blazer and was about to go help her when the stall door suddenly opened.
Adrian stepped out.
He was holding Lila’s bra in one hand, and his face was so red it looked like it was burning.
“You should go,” Lila said through tears, ducking her head even lower. “If someone sees this, there’ll be no explaining it.”
Adrian crouched in front of her and held the bra out. His voice was firm. “Then don’t explain it. Get dressed first.”
They stayed frozen there for a few seconds, neither willing to give in. In the end, Lila relented.
But her hands were shaking too badly. She fumbled with the clasp again and again, tears sliding down her cheeks.
After hesitating for a few seconds, Adrian said, “I’ll do it.”
His expression was grave, his movements clumsy and awkward with inexperience. Every now and then his fingertips brushed her back, and each time he jerked his hand away on instinct.
When he fastened the last hook, I could see the tips of his ears were red enough to bleed.
Then he turned and saw me.
Chapter 3
Chapter 3
A flicker of panic crossed his eyes, gone almost as soon as it appeared. He quickly composed himself and walked over. “Perfect timing,” he said. “Help her put her jacket on.”
After we left the bathroom, he doubled back and spoke to me in a low voice.
“Keep this to yourself.”
I nodded.
That same afternoon, the bra-fastening scandal photo spread across the entire school.
The image was crystal clear. You could see both their faces, their expressions, everything.
Adrian decided I was the one who had leaked it.
That was the first time he ever lost his temper with me.
“Claire Bennett, don’t think you can do whatever you want just because my parents have always backed you.”
His eyes were cold, his voice even colder.
“You’re the daughter-in-law they picked out, not the woman I want. Nobody gets to decide who I marry.”
I pressed my lips together, then said as steadily as I could, “Believe me or don’t, but I had nothing to do with this.”
He let out a mocking laugh. “You were the only one there. If it wasn’t you, then who was it?”
“It wasn’t me.” I lifted my chin, too proud to back down. “Why would I spread rumors to hurt her?”
“Because you’re jealous,” he said. “Jealous of her. Jealous that I’m good to her.”
My head went blank.
I stared at him, barely able to get the words out. “W-what are you talking about?”
He looked at me with naked contempt. “I saw her body. Obviously I have to take responsibility for her.”
“But we—”
I didn’t even get to finish.
“Claire Bennett,” he cut in impatiently, “you don’t actually think that just because I’ve looked after you all these years, it means I liked you, do you?”
It felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over my head.
I went cold all the way through, so cold I couldn’t move.
That same night, what had happened between Adrian and Lila reached both our families.
Late that evening, Adrian’s father dragged him to my house and forced him to apologize. Adrian stood there stiff-necked and defiant and said something outrageous instead.
“If you like Claire Bennett so much, why don’t you marry her yourself?”
The result was exactly what anyone would expect: a brutal scolding from both sides.
Back then, Adrian still didn’t understand the situation.
He didn’t know that from the time I was little, I’d been raised to become the future Mrs. Sterling. Everything had been planned around it—my manners, my education, the way I carried myself in public. Every part of me had been polished to fit the role of the perfect society wife.