Ficorpio
Chapter 1
On graduation day, you met Ethan Sterling one last time.
Afterward, he offered you a cigarette with practiced ease. White smoke curled between his fingers as he gave a soft laugh. “When I get married, I’m definitely not choosing a woman who smokes after sex.”
Your throat tightened. “Why not?” you asked hoarsely.
He looked up at you, his eyes utterly cold. “Claire, I like my women innocent.”
Your fingers closed around the cigarette. You said nothing more.
That same day, you blocked him everywhere and severed every connection between you.
When you met again five years later, he was your new boss.
To spare you both the awkwardness, you submitted your resignation. Instead, he cornered you in his office.
He leaned closer, his breath brushing your ear. “It’s been five years. Want to do it again?”
You lowered your gaze, avoiding his eyes. Your voice remained perfectly calm.
“No. I have to pick up my daughter from school.”
The air went still.
Ethan froze.
You tried to rise from his lap, but his hands clamped around your waist, holding you firmly in place.
The heat in his eyes vanished, replaced by something dark. For the first time, a crack appeared in his usual composure.
“How old is she?” he demanded through clenched teeth, barely restraining the emotion in his voice.
You were silent for a moment before answering softly, “Three.”
Three, not four.
And the two of you had broken up five years ago.
The child had nothing to do with him.
Ethan clearly understood that too.
You tried to stand again. This time, the hand across your waist didn’t stop you.
You had already opened the door when his voice came from behind you, edged with unmistakable suspicion.
“I seem to remember your personnel record listing you as unmarried.”
Your steps faltered. You steadied yourself before turning around, careful not to let a single crack show in your expression.
“We only made it official recently.”
“You just got married, but your daughter is already three?” He arched a brow, his voice thick with mockery.
You nodded without embarrassment. “That’s right. We had her before we got married.”
Ethan said nothing. His sharp gaze swept over the cheap wedding band on your finger, and he let out a contemptuous laugh.
Rather than hide it, you lifted your hand and displayed the ring so openly that your finger nearly jabbed him in the eye.
The instant you sensed his temper rising, you spun around and fled the office.
When you got home that evening, you released a long breath.
Sometimes a lie really was the most effective way to deal with trouble before it began.
You had picked up the ring from a dollar store the day before. It was cheap, but apparently useful.
Surely that would be enough to extinguish whatever lingering feelings Ethan might still have for you.
Sure enough, your resignation was approved the next day.
Chapter 2
That afternoon, someone from Human Resources came by specifically to tell you that you could leave once you completed your handover within the week.
Normally, resignations required a month’s notice.
You had been given one week.
It wasn’t difficult to guess whose decision that had been.
You nodded and began transferring your work to the intern.
Vivian Carter was new, sweet, and enthusiastic. At least, she had been during the time you’d supervised her. She had never once let you pay for your own breakfast or afternoon coffee.
Near the end of the workday, Vivian approached you with an embarrassed smile.
“Claire, would it be okay if I left a little early tonight? My boyfriend asked me to dinner.”
You hesitated.
It wasn’t that you couldn’t let her go. The problem was that you also needed to leave early to pick up your daughter from school.
When you didn’t answer right away, Vivian grew anxious. She clasped her hands together and began pleading.
You couldn’t help laughing. “It’s fine. Go ahead.”
Her face lit up. She thanked you eagerly and immediately began packing her things.
“My boyfriend should be coming down any minute.”
You stared at her in surprise. “He works here too?”
Vivian gave you a mysterious smile. “Not exactly. He’s—”
A deep, magnetic voice interrupted her.
“Are you ready?”
You froze for a split second.
If it had been a voice you’d never heard before, you might have looked up out of idle curiosity.
Unfortunately, that voice had haunted your nightmares for the past five years.
On all those nights when sleep medication was the only thing that let you rest, Ethan Sterling’s words had played over and over in your mind.
“Claire, you’re too good. I’m going to be a bad influence on you.”
“Claire, you should learn to smoke. A girl with a cigarette looks cool. I want to see a different side of you.”
You had fallen for every coaxing word. You had even learned to smoke for him.
By your sophomore year, you had distinguished yourself from the crowd of women pursuing Ethan and become his regular bedmate.
Later, after outlasting all the other women on campus who wanted him, you finally became his girlfriend. The relationship lasted three years.
The day he accepted your confession, the weather had been awful, with fierce winds tearing across campus.
He had just returned from a date with another woman in your year and dropped her off at the dorms. His car was parked below your building.
One long, elegant hand rested against the open window, a cigarette held loosely between his fingers. His eyes were closed, as if he were taking a moment to rest.
The wind scattered ash from the cigarette and carried it into the air.
Chapter 3
You threw on a coat, hurried downstairs, and knocked on his window. Emboldened by the small measure of special treatment he had always shown you, you confessed your feelings.
For a moment, even the wind seemed to quiet.
It was as though someone had paused a movie.
You stood there, waiting silently for his answer.
Ethan turned his head and looked at you. Then he took out a cigarette and held it to your lips.
His dark eyes were fathomless, yet irresistibly compelling.
As if under a spell, you parted your lips and took the cigarette. Your damp lips brushed his fingertips, but he didn’t pull his hand away.
The teasing curve of his mouth softened into something almost like permission.
“So the good girl isn’t so good anymore.”
At the time, you had been too lost in his gaze to understand what he really meant.
You didn’t understand until graduation day.
That was the last time he asked you to meet him at a hotel, and the last time you ever saw him.
Afterward, he handed you a cigarette with the ease of long practice.
“When I get married, I’ll never choose a woman who smokes after sex.”
You forced back the tightness in your throat and asked him why.
Ethan smiled. Pale smoke curled between his fingers, and when he spoke, his voice carried a seriousness you had never heard before.
“Claire, I like innocent women.”
Tears burned in your eyes, and for an instant, you forgot how to breathe.
Innocent.
He liked them innocent.
Yet once, he had been the one who kept telling you that you were too innocent, too well-behaved, too untouchable for him to know where to begin.
Only now did you finally understand what he had meant.
The moment you stopped being a good girl, he had placed you in the category of women worth playing with.
You had never been someone he intended to spend his life with.
You pulled yourself out of the memory, your expression settling once more into perfect calm.
Vivian Carter spun around excitedly, grabbed her handbag, and hurried toward him. Then she stopped and looked back at you.
“Claire, don’t you need to pick up your daughter from school? We can give you a ride.”
You were about to refuse, but Ethan Sterling walked straight over, picked up the canvas tote you had left on the table, and headed for the parking lot without giving you a chance to object.
The silence inside the car was strangely oppressive. Vivian was the only one who spoke with any regularity.
Ethan tapped his fingers idly against the steering wheel, responding to her in an absent tone, though his gaze kept drifting toward you.
Perhaps Vivian was worried you felt awkward, because she tried to draw you into the conversation.
“You work late so often, Claire. Does your husband usually pick up your daughter?”
The word husband caught you off guard. For a moment, you forgot the lie you had told. Then you shook your head and offered an excuse.
“He works out of town. He doesn’t come home very often.”