Lapdog Like Me

To get my claws into Ron Rockefeller, the city's crown prince, I did the unthinkable. After the fire, I had my face reconstructed to be the spitting image of his long-lost love. For three years, I was his devoted lapdog. But he just laughed, pulling some new starlet close and flicking a black card at my face. "I'm over Lillian Shaw," he sneered. "Go get yourself a new face." Pure joy surged through me. I immediately texted his mother: [Mrs. Rockefeller, your son's obsession is finally broken. He's over Lillian.] She was ecstatic. A hundred million dollars hit my account almost instantly. Without a second thought, I walked out of that VIP lounge, booked the first flight out, and hopped into a cab bound for the airport. 1 "Well, that's a new one. Mia Shen finally stopped chasing him!" "Right? She used to follow Ron around like a lost puppy, ready to do anything he asked." Ron's sycophantic friends buzzed with disbelief. "She didn't even take the black card. Is she trying to play hard to get?" Ron, probably feeling the sting of public rejection, shoved his new arm candy aside. He blew up my phone with dozens of calls, but each one went straight to my blocked list. His face darkened into a thunderous scowl. His friends quickly changed their tune. "Come on, she's a gold digger. There's no way she'd give up before sealing the deal." "It's not just her. Her parents are just as desperate to climb the social ladder. They even got surgery to look like Lillian's parents. She'll be back, tail between her legs." Ron's expression softened slightly, a contemptuous snort escaping his lips. "No matter how much she begs this time, she can forget about making things official for the next three months. Unless…" His friends eagerly chimed in, brainstorming a new list of humiliating, bizarre tasks for me to perform. I was blissfully unaware of their plotting. Phone in hand, I was already arranging for my parents to pack their bags and meet me at the airport. Once everything back home was settled, I let out a long, shuddering breath. Three years. My life as a doormat was finally over. My family used to run a small business, but we were ruined when a client defaulted on a massive payment, shattering our supply chain. Debt collectors descended on us like vultures, ransacking our home. One night, their harassment escalated to arson. The fire left my parents and me horribly burned and unrecognizable. My Ph.D. studies came to an abrupt, painful halt. It was during a visit to one of her foundation's hospitals that I met Mrs. Rockefeller. She told me about her son, Ron, who was spiraling into a deep depression after the disappearance of his first love, Lillian. Her proposal was simple. Since I needed reconstructive surgery and skin grafts anyway, why not take on Lillian's face? I could help Ron heal, pull him out of the darkness. In return, she would cover all my family's medical expenses and clear our crippling debt. I agreed. For three long years, I weathered Ron’s darkest moods and endured the endless mockery from his so-called friends. And finally, it worked. He had grown so utterly sick of looking at Lillian's face that the spell was broken. When Mrs. Rockefeller got the news, she was overjoyed and immediately transferred the promised sum. This was a business transaction, and I had no intention of leaving loose ends. I booked the earliest flight possible. The cab sped through the city, and soon I was at the airport, wrapped in a tearful, triumphant embrace with my parents. The plane took off on time, leaving all our hardship and humiliation behind on the ground below. A day and a night later, after we’d settled into a comfortable hotel suite, a message from an unknown number buzzed on my phone. [Mia, don't get cute. You dare to block me?] [You were with me for three years. We did everything. What man is going to want you now? Stop this act and come back.] [If you don't come back, you won't like what happens next.] He still thought this was like all the other times, that I would swallow his insults and come crying back, begging him not to leave me. I just smiled and blocked the number. Soon, Ron's friends started coming out of the woodwork, trying to contact me through various channels. [Mia, you should know when to quit. If you really piss Ron off, he might actually dump you for good.] [Just apologize and come back. He's not happy without you waiting on him hand and foot.] [Where else can you go without Ron? You'll just end up crawling back, begging him to take you in!] I scoffed, adding each of them to my blocklist. For the next six years, I poured every ounce of my being into my education and career. My talent for mathematics hadn't faded, and despite the delay, my old university welcomed me back to complete my doctorate. My performance was stellar, and I graduated in just two years. Upon graduation, I was recruited by Granite Capital, a massive multinational financial institution. I worked relentlessly, dedicating myself to the firm and spearheading numerous successful investment projects. Year after year, I was among the top three performers. After four years of relentless grind, I was promoted to Managing Director. This trip back was for work—to scout the domestic market for expansion. I had just finished a meeting with an investor. As we parted ways, a hesitant voice called out from behind me. "Mia… is that you?" 2 I turned, a flicker of surprise in my eyes. I vaguely recognized him. One of Ron's cronies, Chad, I think. His eyes were wide with disbelief, scanning me from head to toe. The woman standing before him was a world away from the girl he remembered. Dressed in a high-end power suit, I carried myself with an aura of quiet confidence—a far cry from the desperate girl who used to worship the ground Ron Rockefeller walked on. "Mia, you've changed! I almost didn't recognize you!" I was more surprised that he recognized me. I had invested a good portion of my earnings into seeing the world's top plastic surgeons, who had painstakingly restored my original features. Today, I looked nothing like Ron's precious Lillian Shaw. Chad must have seen the question in my eyes. "After you left," he explained, "Ron dug up everything about you. He knows what you used to look like." He must have been disappointed, then. My original face was nothing like Lillian's. Not that I cared anymore. "I have to run," I said, offering a polite but dismissive smile. "We can catch up some other time." "Wait," he said, grabbing my arm. "After you vanished, Ron was a mess for a long time." "It's been six years, Chad," I replied coolly. "His emotional state is no longer my problem." I wasn't in the business of after-care. His face flushed with anger. "Think you're hot stuff now that you're not with Ron? No matter how much you make, you'll never touch his level of wealth. Ron's taken over the whole Rockefeller empire now. He's throwing a party at the Elysian Club tonight. You should come. Maybe he'll even find a little job for you…" The sheer arrogance of it was astounding. I simply pulled my arm free, slipped into my Pagani, and left him standing in my exhaust. After a long afternoon of company meetings and a cocktail party, it was already late. As I stepped out of the venue, I ran right into Chad and his entourage. It turned out my event and their party were in the same high-end club. "Well, well, look who it is," Chad sneered. "Said you weren't coming. Who are you all dressed up for?" Before I could protest, he was steering me toward their private room. The door swung open to a scene of loud music and drunken revelry. Someone spotted Chad and whistled. "There you are, man! Took you long enough. Not gonna introduce us to the beautiful lady?" My gaze swept across the room. I recognized a few faces from Ron's old crew, but most were new. They were all clustered around one man, who sat like a king on his throne. It was Ron. The years had chiseled away his boyish arrogance, replacing it with the polished steel of a man in power. But it wasn't him that made my breath catch. It was the woman beside him. Her face was a perfect, mature echo of the one I used to wear. Lillian Shaw. The real Lillian Shaw. My fingers flew across my phone's screen, snapping a quick picture and sending it to my boss. His reply was instant: [Keep her there. I'm on it.] Just then, a familiar voice cut through the noise. "Mia? Ron, isn't that your old lapdog?" The entire room fell silent. You could hear a pin drop. Ron's head snapped up. His eyes locked on me, and the wine glass in his hand shattered, red wine and glass shards spilling onto the plush carpet. His lazy amusement morphed into shock, then into an unreadable, complex storm. The whispers started, laced with mockery and pity. "That's Mia. During the years Lillian was gone, she tried to slide into her place. Even got surgery to look just like her. She was obsessed with Ron." "Obsessed? Please, she was a gold digger. Every woman in this city wants a piece of Ron Rockefeller. He never actually cared about her." "But he threw a huge fit when she left." "And even though Lillian's been back for a while, Ron keeps saying they're just 'friends'..." "No way. Remember how devastated he was when he thought Lillian died? She's the one he actually loves." "So this impostor is back now? You think she's trying to compete with the real thing?" A shadow of malice crossed Lillian’s face before she masked it with a brilliant smile. She glided toward me. "Mia, is it? Thank you for taking care of Ron for three years, using my face." 3 My expression remained placid. I plucked a Manhattan from a passing waiter's tray and took a delicate sip. "No thanks necessary," I said, my voice smooth as silk. "I was well paid for my services." A hundred million for three years' work. It was a deal I'd take again in a heartbeat. She looked taken aback, clearly not expecting me to admit my motives so brazenly. A girl nearby piped up, her tone dripping with disdain. "Mia, some things never change. You're still as shameless as ever. If you hadn't gotten that surgery, Ron wouldn't have even looked at you. Did you leave six years ago because you'd finally milked him for enough cash?" Ron sat frozen, his face a mask of conflicting emotions. Lillian smiled sweetly. "Don't be too hard on her. It's my fault, really. If it weren't for my… accident, Ron wouldn't have needed to find a replacement." I said nothing, letting her words hang in the air. A guy pushed his way through the crowd. "Mia, I heard Ron dumped you, so you ran off overseas in a huff. What do you do for work now? Chad said he saw you with some old guy earlier today. You're not… you know…" He winked, the implication hanging filthily in the air. Smirks spread across the faces around me. I smiled back. "I'm in investments. Mr. Lin is one of my clients." "Don't bullshit us," he scoffed. "We all know what you're capable of." He heaved a dramatic sigh. "You're in your thirties now, right? How long can a career like that last? These men might say they love you, but it's all an act. Take my advice: find a real job. Before you know it, you'll be dealing with lower-class johns, and then…" Another woman chimed in. "Didn't Mia's family home burn down years ago? She probably has PTSD. I bet she still lives in hotels." She shot me a smug look. "My family's in real estate. I could set you up with a free apartment, totally safe. I could even help you find a job nearby. We go way back, after all. It's the least I can do." The guy snorted. "Don't be so nice. What if she starts turning tricks in your apartment? Think of the property values…" The woman gasped, covering her mouth. "Oh, she wouldn't do that, would she?" A glass crashed to the floor near Ron's feet. Whether it was intentional or not, I couldn't say. His face, half-hidden in the dim light, seemed to be waiting, expecting me to crumble and beg for his help, just like old times. Then he would play the valiant hero, shielding me from their barbs. I didn't even glance his way. Lillian chose that moment to interject. "Oh, stop teasing her. Ms. Shen, I'm not one to forget a favor. Ron and I co-own a company that's about to enter another round of financing. Our operations department is swamped. You have experience with… personal care. The department head has a paralyzed mother who needs looking after. And since you know a thing or two about investments, you could even chat with her about financial reports in your spare time…" "That won't be necessary. I have a job." I smiled, taking another sip of my cocktail, savoring the sweet, bitter notes. Lillian's brow furrowed. "This is a rare opportunity for someone like you. Ever heard of Granite Capital? They're the biggest name in global finance. I've already emailed their Managing Director to set up a meeting. When we discuss the investment, you could tag along as the department head's assistant and see how the real world works. This woman is a genius, you know. Rose from obscurity to MD in just a few years. For the sake of my future with Ron, I had to pull a lot of strings just to get in touch with her." She cast a loving, proprietary gaze at Ron, her pride on full display. 4 The crowd erupted in fawning praise. "Lillian, you're amazing! You actually managed to connect with Granite Capital!" "I've heard of that MD! She has a Ph.D. in mathematics from a top university. Granite recruited her before she even graduated. She's a prodigy!" "You have no idea how hard Lillian worked for this. She pulled all-nighters studying their portfolio. I guess she and Ron are more than just 'friends' after all!" Lillian sauntered over to Ron, downed his drink in one gulp, and theatrically fell into his lap. The crowd roared, chanting for them to kiss. Lillian even tilted her perfectly made-up face up to his. But Ron didn't move. He held her with one arm, his gaze fixed on me, a strange, defiant look in his eyes. I found the whole situation amusing. "That investor… her name is Susan Shen, if I remember correctly." "Yeah, that's her. I heard she's originally from around here." "Shen?" someone mused, a playful smirk on his face as he gestured toward me. "Don't tell me it's our Mia Shen." I nodded. "Yes. That's me." A beat of silence hung in the air. Then, the room exploded with laughter. "Mia, have you completely lost your mind? Comparing yourself to a powerhouse like Susan Shen? You're not even in the same league." "Some women are born to be queens. You were born to be trampled on." The insults flew, each one a testament to their blind worship of the mythical "Susan Shen" and their disdain for me. It didn't bother me in the slightest. If my boss hadn't asked me to stall, I would have been long gone. I finished my drink and signaled the bartender for another. Just then, a young woman in a sharp business suit rushed into the room, clutching a stack of files. "Excuse me, Ms. Shaw. Granite just replied. They've agreed to a meeting. But it's urgent—it's in half an hour. I brought all the necessary documents." "Half an hour?!" Lillian was stunned. "Why so sudden? Was the email from Susan Shen herself?" The assistant nodded frantically. "Yes, it was." "Don't worry, Ms. Shaw. I've double-checked everything. The files are all in order." Lillian's face lit up with triumph. As the room filled with congratulations, she threw her arms around Ron and planted a hard kiss on his lips. He turned his head away, his expression unreadable. With only thirty minutes to spare, a frantic flurry of activity erupted as the women surrounded Lillian, fussing over her hair and makeup. I was the only one still sitting calmly, nursing my drink. Lillian shot me an irritated look. "I'm still offering you that assistant job, for Ron's sake. The department head is on her way here, and her mother is home alone. Mia, I'm sending you the address. You should go now." I was genuinely confused. "I believe I already told you I don't need a job. Please don't make arrangements on my behalf, Ms. Shaw." The onlookers watched, hungry for drama. The assistant just smiled awkwardly, unsure of what to do. Lillian's face flushed with embarrassment. She looked to Ron for support. He frowned, his expression darkening as he opened his mouth to speak. But before he could utter a word, his assistant let out a piercing shriek. "The address! The meeting location! Susan Shen hasn't told us where to meet!" Livid, Lillian slapped her assistant across the face. "It's too late to wait for another email!" She snatched her phone and dialed the number from the email signature. "I'll call her directly." At that exact moment, my phone began to ring.

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