Ficorpio
Chapter 1
Chapter 1
For half an hour, you stood outside the black wrought-iron gates, your fingers clenched around the handle of a battered suitcase.
Piano music drifted out from inside, mingled with bright laughter. Each note pierced like a needle.
This was your home.
And today was the first time you’d ever come back to it.
At last, a housemaid opened the door. The moment you stepped into the entryway, you saw Vivian Sterling in a white princess-style dress, seated at the piano.
The instant she noticed you, she whipped around. Tears spilled down her face like dropped pearls. “Dad, Mom—you’re really going to let her stay? Then what about me?”
Evelyn Sterling rushed over and pulled her into an embrace, her voice trembling. “Vivian, don’t cry. How could I ever not want you?”
Richard Sterling patted Vivian’s back, his tone absolute. “You’ll always be Daddy’s little girl.”
And Lucas Sterling—your bargain-bin excuse for an older brother—stood there in a tailored suit, his gaze sharp as ice as it landed on you. “Vivian’s heart isn’t strong. Don’t upset her.”
You looked at the picture they made, the four of them holding each other so tightly, and suddenly you laughed.
If you hadn’t promised Grandma Rose, who would willingly walk into a house this full of hypocrisy?
Your biological parents and your biological brother were busy comforting the counterfeit daughter who had spent eighteen years taking your rightful place.
And you—Sophia Sterling, the real one—were left standing at the door like a package no one wanted to sign for.
Knock, knock.
You rapped your knuckles lightly against the entry table, your voice calm. “Am I allowed to come in, or should I wait until you’re done hugging?”
Only then did Evelyn seem to remember you existed. Panic flickered across her face. “Sweetheart, come in. Don’t just stand there.”
Sweetheart.
She didn’t even get your name right.
Your name was Sophia, not some mangled pet version she’d invented on the spot.
After eighteen years of calling Vivian’s name, how could she possibly remember that her real daughter had one of her own?
“My name is Sophia,” you said as you dragged your suitcase inside, your tone flat.
Vivian looked up through her tears, all soft fragility and trembling lashes—convincing enough to break anyone’s heart. “Sophia, I’m sorry. This is all my fault. I took your place—”
“It’s fine.” You set your suitcase in a corner. “You’ve had it for eighteen years. A few more minutes won’t make much difference.”
The room froze.
Vivian’s sob caught in her throat. Clearly, she hadn’t expected you to be that blunt.
Lucas frowned. “Sophia, what kind of thing is that to say?”
You lifted your eyes to him.
Twenty-five. Executive president of Sterling Group. The outside world called him decisive, ruthless, unstoppable.
Right now, he looked more like a guard dog with only one person worth protecting.
Chapter 2
Chapter 2
“I’m telling the truth.” You sat down on the sofa. It was so soft—so much softer than the wooden bed you’d slept on growing up with your abusive foster parents.
“She did take my place for eighteen years. That’s a fact. Or were you expecting me to say, ‘It’s okay, sister, go ahead and keep it’?”
“You—” Lucas started forward, anger flashing across his face, but Richard stopped him.
Richard cleared his throat. “Sophia just got here. Everyone needs time to adjust. Vivian, go upstairs and rest. Don’t forget to take your medicine.”
Vivian bit her lip and looked at you through misty eyes before hurrying up the stairs.
Her retreating figure looked frail enough to collapse in a stiff wind.
But you saw it clearly—the second she turned away, the corner of her mouth lifted in a smug little smile.
Not bad.
Too bad for her, she’d run into you.
Dinner was lavish: ten dishes and a soup, all of it bland.
Evelyn said it was for Vivian’s heart condition.
You took a bite of the steamed fish. It was so flavorless it felt like chewing cotton.
“Sophia… over there, were you doing all right?” Evelyn asked carefully.
Over there meant the home of your abusive foster parents.
You set your fork down. “Didn’t you already look into all that?”
Once the DNA results came back, there was no way they hadn’t dug through every corner of your past. Otherwise, they never would have found you so quickly.
“We just wanted to hear it from you,” Richard said.
You smiled. “My foster father was a gambler. My foster mother spent all day at card tables. I started washing dishes in a restaurant when I was ten, and by fifteen I was earning money to pay for their son’s tutoring. You probably know the details better than I do.”
Evelyn’s eyes reddened. “I’m sorry, Sophia. This is all my fault—”
“We’re eating,” Lucas cut in. “Can we not talk about this? It’s killing everyone’s appetite.”
You turned to him. “Does my past embarrass you, Brother?”
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Then what did you mean?”
“Ah!” Vivian suddenly clutched her chest, her face going white. “M-my heart. It hurts.”
The whole family rushed to her at once.
“Quick, take your medicine! It’s in the drawer by your bed!” Evelyn cried.
“Do we need to go to the hospital? I’ll call an ambulance right now,” Richard said.
“I’ll get the family doctor here immediately,” Lucas said.
You kept eating without even pausing.
Her acting was worse than before.
Someone having a real heart episode wouldn’t have the strength to cry out like that, much less pick the exact moment you and Lucas were arguing to collapse.
Her timing was impeccable.
The family doctor arrived quickly. After examining her, he said she was only emotionally upset and needed rest.
Evelyn carried Vivian upstairs, and Richard and Lucas followed.
The enormous dining room was left with only you in it.
A maid came over to clear the table, but you lifted a hand. “I’m not done yet.”
Chapter 3
Chapter 3
In truth, you were already full. You just wanted to sit there and finish your first meal in your biological parents’ home.
Even if you had to eat it alone.
Your phone buzzed.
It was a message from your foster mother.
You ungrateful little brat, where’s the money? Why haven’t you sent this month’s living expenses yet? Your brother wants new sneakers!
You blocked the number at once, then deleted every other way they had to contact you.
From today on, you wouldn’t give them another cent.
Your room was at the very end of the third floor—a converted storage room.
The moment you pushed the door open, you stopped cold.
It was less than two hundred square feet. A narrow twin bed. A cheap wardrobe with the paint peeling off. A desk with one corner broken. Nothing else.
The wallpaper was coming loose in places, and the window overlooked the back trash collection area. Even with the glass shut, you could still catch the faint sour reek of rot.
And on the way here, you’d passed Vivian Sterling’s room. Her door had been left slightly open.
A pink princess bed. A full wall of custom closets. Roses and hydrangeas crowding the little balcony outside.
The contrast was so sharp it almost hurt.
Mrs. Lane, one of the housekeepers, stood in the doorway. “Miss, Mrs. Sterling said you’ll have to make do with this room for now. She’ll switch you to another one in a few days.”
You smiled faintly. “No need. This is fine. It’s quiet.”
She looked like she wanted to say something, but in the end, she stayed silent and turned away.
You shut the door and opened your suitcase.
There weren’t many clothes inside, but it was packed with books and notebooks. Resting on top was your top-ranked exam score report—top ten in the entire province.
You had earned that result with your life.
Your abusive foster parents had never paid a cent for tutoring. You’d clawed your way there on your own.
Up at four in the morning to memorize. In bed at midnight. On weekends, you worked in restaurants carrying plates and handed out flyers just to cover living costs and tuition.
And that was how you’d gotten into Harbor University, one of the best schools in the country.
You’d also already found out that Vivian had burned through millions on private tutors and one-on-one coaching, only to scrape into an average second-tier college.
What a joke.
At ten that night, you went downstairs to get some water and heard voices coming from the study.
“…Sophia’s such a cold child. I’m worried she and Vivian won’t get along.” That was Evelyn Sterling.