Lapdog Like Me Chapter 1

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.

* * *

"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?"