Billing the Billionaire: The Stand-in's Trap

After signing the contract to be the billionaire's stand-in, I tamed him into my personal lapdog. If you can't even handle me, what makes you think you can win her over?

Since you're treating me like her, send me an ab pic first.

Chapter 1

I transmigrated as the female lead in an angst-filled novel. In the story, I was the stand-in for his unreachable first love, stripped of all dignity by the billionaire CEO while I gave him my absolute everything.

The plot had just begun. Silas offered me thirty grand a month to be his stand-in girlfriend. His appearance, at least, was flawless, checking every single box of the billionaire fantasy.

"You'll live here from now on. You'll take care of my daily needs and wait for me to come home every night."

"I have classes."

"Drop out."

The original female lead had actually dropped out, dedicating her life to being his glorified maid. She cut ties with society, leaving herself zero backup plan. I, naturally, had no intention of repeating her stupidity.

"Silas, I did some digging. The only reason you picked me is that I look exactly like your precious first love, Elise."

"Silas, spending thirty grand to buy a cheap illusion. Is your love really that worthless?"

The man, who had been about to pin me against the sofa, froze. "That is none of your business."

"In my rulebook, a man's top-tier charm isn't his checkbook. It's keeping his zipper closed."

"Elise just went overseas, she isn't dead. Imagine how disappointed she'd be if she came back and found out you had a mistress."

"With all due respect, in my circle, a guy pulling this kind of stunt is just a walking red flag and a cheap player. Any hope you had of getting back together with her? Gone."

Caught off guard, Silas had just been schooled to his face on contract boundaries and basic male decency.

"Don't even think about hiding it. Secrets always have a way of getting out." I gave my index finger a stern wag.

"Besides, our relationship is purely financial. If we sleep together, you're paying for sex. That's illegal, and it won't look great for your public image or your company's stock price."

"You were quick enough to take the money." He shot me a flat glance. Out of caution, he stood up and released me.

Right in front of him, I flicked the thirty-grand check so it made a crisp, satisfying snap, then shoved it straight into my cheap canvas tote bag.

"I'm trying to save you. Since I have the face of your dreams and can soothe your broken heart, I'm absolutely obligated to step up and take on this responsibilityjust not with my body."

"If you don't want to be my mistress, exactly how do you plan to soothe me?"

"I can help you practice how to win her back." I shifted my posture on the sofa.

The original novel mentioned that whenever I looked up from this angle, I looked exactly like her.

"Stop thinking of me as a stand-in. You need to commit to the role. From this second on, I am Elise.

"Imagine it. If she were sitting right here, right now, what would you do?"

Silas took a drag of his cigarette, his gaze growing unfocused. "She's never been here."

Hah. What a useless lapdog.

"Look," I smiled softly, perfectly mimicking her gentle warmth. "I'm here now, aren't I? What are you going to do about it, hm?"

Intoxicated by the sight of my face under the dim lights, Silas tilted his head and leaned in to kiss me.

Chapter 2

I jerked my knee up to shove him away, my hand slapping his face without a single ounce of hesitation.

"The contract doesn't cover unapproved intimate contact. Want to touch me? Your money isn't enough."

I narrowed my eyes, tilting my chin up slightly. "Go to the bathroom. Get your shirt wet and show off those abs."

Silas cupped his reddening jaw, a dangerous flash of shock crossing his eyes. No woman in this city had ever dared to reject him, let alone hit him.

I grabbed his arm, dragged him up, and shoved him into the bathroom. A few clicks later, I had the ab pictures.

I had carefully styled him for the shot. I intentionally buttoned his shirt wrong, leaving one undone. The V-line of his abs disappeared beneath his black leather belt. Paired with tailored dress pants and polished black shoes, the look was completely restrained yet dripping with sexual tension.

Even Elise would approve.

I slammed the phone into his solid chest. "Send it to her. Prove that you aren't just a walking ATM, but an actual attractive man."

Silas looked away. "I can't do that."

"Have you never chased a girl before? Never had a normal relationship?"

Silas's jaw clenched, a tight muscle ticking in his cheek.

I swiped my tongue over my bottom lip.

"How about this? I'll be your exclusive dating coach. I'll act like Elise, interact with you, and tell you exactly what women actually like."

"You'll level up your skills and get some real experience. That way, when you finally confess to Elise, you won't look like a total amateur."

"Plus, we're strictly bound by contract. It's a pure business transaction. No feelings, no physical contact, and zero damage to your precious innocence."

Silas let out a slow breath. "Fine."

"I'm heading back now. You're driving."

"What?"

I checked my watch. "It's already eleven. It's too late for a girl to go home alone, so you have to drop me off. And remember, right now, I'm Elise. You don't just brush me off to your driver."

Silas stared at my face for a long moment. He finally grabbed his car keys and drove me back to campus.

I changed my profile picture to match Elise's and sent him a text: "You were a good boy today."

Silas: "Goodnight."

Trash men only exist because women spoil them.

You give them everything, even your feelings, and they just see you as cheap.

But if you set the rules, stack the game in your favor, and unapologetically drain their bank accounts? Suddenly, they're perfect gentlemen.

They'll even thank you for it.

The next morning, I took the initiative and texted him a simple good morning. Silas texted back, asking to meet for lunch.

I spent a few minutes putting myself together and slid into the passenger seat of his Bentley right on time.

"Not bad today. You texted back fast, you initiated the date, and the car definitely gives me face. But" I swept my gaze over him with a slow smile.

"But what?"

"You need to fix your hair." I stared just long enough to make a point before politely looking away.

For the first time in his life, Silas experienced the female gaze. He ran a hand through his hair, his fingers slightly stiff. For the rest of the drive, his eyes kept darting to the rearview mirror, trying to figure out what was wrong with his styling.

Staring is a form of power.

Men constantly scrutinize women. Their gazes set the rules, dictating what counts as beautiful and what counts as sexy.

I judged Silas without holding back for one simple reason: to remind him exactly who was pulling the strings in this dynamic.

I kept that exact same energy when we sat down for lunch.

"The restaurant is great, the food is perfect, and you've been a total gentleman. But I get the feeling you don't really know how to make a girl laugh. Were you always this quiet around Elise?"

Chapter 3

Silas cleared his throat, looking slightly tense. "I don't really know what to talk about with women."

"Compliment me." I leaned forward, locking onto his eyes.

He blinked, completely caught off guard. A faint redness crept up his neck. "You look beautiful today."

"Keep going."

He looked away. "Your outfit is simple. Very pure."

"You added a little detail. That's better than a generic compliment. What else?"

He held his breath for a long time before finally choking out, "Your lipstick shade looks good."

Seeing him struggle to squeeze out another word, I looked down and cut into my steak. "So, which gives you more of a headachea Wall Street merger, or sitting here right now?"

"Neither."

"Tell me about the company. I really want to know. I've never met another CEO before, you're the only one." I rested my chin in my hand, staring into his eyes with absolute, manufactured sincerity.

Silas started talking about his work. I just guided him along and fed his ego. Before he knew it, he was spilling everything.

When he finally paused, I tapped the table. "See that? You have to guide the other person to talk about themselves, then constantly praise them. That makes them want to share, and it builds connection."

Silas was a fast learner. "So, what were you doing this morning?"

"Thinking about you," I replied without missing a beat.

His gaze flickered. He turned his head away to hide it, but the tips of his ears were visibly red.

I lowered my eyelashes, leisurely cutting another piece of steak. "Just a little conversational trick."

I was pretty satisfied with how this date went. In the original plot, my character had never been taken on a real date. She wasn't even considered worthy of a proper meal at a table with him.

It wasn't about whether he loved me or not. It was about whether I had basic human dignity in his eyes, whether I was worth being treated like an actual person.

Thinking about that, I made him carry my bag on the way out, casually dropping hints that he was completely clueless about how to treat a lady. A high-and-mighty CEO carrying my cheap canvas toteit was a pretty entertaining sight.

The second I pushed open my dorm room door, a glass of ice water was splashed directly into my face. Delilah stood there with her arms crossed, looking at me like I was absolute trash. "Stella, you actually think climbing into my brother's bed is going to turn you into some high-society princess?"

Delilah was Silas's younger sister. Behind every tragic female lead was the ultimate nightmare sister-in-law, teaming up with her brother to make the heroine's life hell. Elise was their childhood friend, someone from their exclusive old-money circle.

I was nowhere near their league. Delilah thought I was a gold digger leaching off her brother, and in the original plot, she slapped and humiliated me whenever she felt like it.

"You think looking like Elise actually means something? You're just a stand-in. A cheap knockoff who will never be good enough to show her face in public!"

I wiped the ice water from my face and pulled out my phone, dialing Silas's number.

No tears. No screaming. I just asked him if he was free tonight.

"I am. Where do you want to eat?"

"Restaurants are so boring," I said, casually wiping a drop of water off my chin. I stared right into Delilah's twisted, jealous face and deliberately lowered my voice into the phone. "Tonight, I want to eat a dinner cooked by your own hands. At your private villa."

Then, I hung up.

Delilah lost it, her voice piercing the air like a boiling kettle.

"Why would my brother ever let you into his house? And cook for you?! Is he insane?! Who do you think you are?!"

I pulled my lips into a sharp smirk. "Take a guess."

"You bitch! I could make one phone call and make sure you never graduate! Do you hear me?!"

The Lin family really did have massive wealth and the kind of power that could destroy a life with a snap of their fingers.

Chapter 4

Soon after, my advisor summoned me to his office. He launched into a self-righteous lecture about my morals. "I brought you into this program to do academic research, but instead, you're out there gold-digging. You're making a massive scene, coming and going in luxury cars. Is your mind even on your studies anymore?"

In the original plot, the advisor teamed up with Delilah to torment the original host, ruining her reputation until she was forced to drop out and become Silas's caged canary.

"My experimental data is flawless, and I stay up all night doing the grunt work for your projects. And now you're using the Lin family's checkbook to threaten my future? You don't even deserve to be called an advisor."

Advisors held the power of life and death over their students' futures. He had never been spoken to like that before. He pointed at the door and kicked me out of the lab.

It was late autumn, and the air bit into my skin. Standing in the freezing hallway, I suddenly realized my clothes were still soaking wet from the ice water.

Next door, Professor Simone saw my pathetic state. She pulled me into her office and handed me some clean clothes. "Change into these."

I looked at her elegant, unadorned face and vaguely remembered her name. She was one of the very few side characters in the original novel who actually showed the female lead some kindness. Unfortunately, she didn't get much screen time. All I knew was that she had been permanently stuck at the associate professor level, unable to secure a promotion.

"Offending your advisor means you might really not get your degree." She made me a hot cup of tea.

"So what if I get it? Graduate and still end up unemployed. Jobs aren't exactly easy to find right now. Besides, as a woman trying to survive in academia Professor Simone, you know exactly how bitter that tastes."

I cupped the hot mug in my hands, shifting my gaze to her. "Professor Simone, I have a project on hand. It's incredibly promising, and the clients are already lined up. Are you interested in hearing the details?"

That night, Silas drove over to pick me up. "Did Delilah bully you?"

Delilah loved making phone calls to complain, constantly badmouthing me in front of Silas. In the original plot, any explanation I gave was seen as a cover-up, and a cover-up was seen as guilt, which only made Silas despise and look down on me even more.

"She just relies on you a lot. Seeing you take care of me, she's probably just feeling possessive of her older brother. It's fine. But" I paused, timing it perfectly.

"But what?"

"Delilah really wants to break into the entertainment industry. She isn't focusing on her studies and is running around auditioning everywhere. Her grades used to be so good."

Just a few simple words, and Silas's brow furrowed into a tight knot.

In the original novel, Delilah actually ended up becoming an A-list actress.

Are you kidding me? Going to Hollywood to be a top-tier star, pulling in tens of millions of dollars a moviewhy do the Lins get all the good things in life?

I made up my mind to derail her destiny right then and there. "In my circle, girls with her kind of family background usually go abroad for further studies."

"You're right." Silas nodded in deep agreement.

Hurry up and ship her overseas. Keep her locked in a degree program for three or four years. By the time she comes back, she'll be way too old to break into the brutal entertainment industry.

We took a trip to the supermarket before heading back to his suburban villa.

"Girls these days are delicate. Especially someone like Elise. Once you finally win her back, you definitely aren't planning to make her cook and serve you like a maid, right?"

"I'll hire a private chef by then," Silas said smoothly, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

I let out a cold, internal scoff. Now you know how to hire staff? Then why the hell did I spend three whole years boiling soup for you in the original plot?!

Chapter 5

"In our circle, a man who only knows how to throw money around is just a boring ATM. A true top-tier Alpha needs to be able to pan-fry a perfect Michelin-quality steak in the kitchen for his woman."

Silas took off his suit jacket and tied an apron over his crisp white shirt. "I used to cook when I was studying abroad, but I'm completely out of practice now."

"I can barely wait. Let me see what you've got."

I sat on a high barstool, lazily resting my chin on my hand as I spun side to side, watching him bustle around the kitchen. Oh, how the tables have turned! It was finally his turn to wash his hands and cook for me. God, this felt good.

Since Silas had studied overseas, his Western cooking skills were surprisingly decent. I praised him. "Looks good, smells good, tastes good. No major issues. You just need to figure out exactly what Elise likes to eat and cater to her tastes."

"She likes spicy food. Heavy, bold flavors." A flicker of nostalgia crossed Silas's eyes.

In the original novel, I cooked for him for three solid years, and he still couldn't remember my preferences. The second his precious first love came back, he ordered a massive pot of spicy Szechuan fish and forced me to eat it with them, completely ignoring how bad my cramps got with spicy food.

Clearly, it wasn't a memory issue. He just never gave a single damn about me. But then again, why would a billionaire bother remembering the dietary preferences of his desperately obsessed, free-of-charge maid?

I stirred my creamy mushroom soup. "That's not very healthy. You're going to have to put some actual effort into nutritional balance. You use a lot of heavy cream and cheese in your cooking. Are your cholesterol levels even normal?"

"What?" Silas froze.

"I can tell you're constantly swamped with work, leaving you zero time to work out. You eat heavy meals and drink alcohol all the time. What did your last medical physical say?"

Silas's expression tightened into something more serious. "It was fine."

"You're pushing thirty, right? You aren't exactly young anymore. You need to start taking care of your body."

Silas froze. It had clearly never crossed his mind that a fresh-faced college girl would call him old to his face.

"But biotechnology is incredibly advanced now. It can keep your body functioning at the level of a twenty-five-year-old. It's actually a huge trend in the Silicon Valley elite circles to have a dedicated private medical team using specialized supplements and medications to maintain peak energy levels. One of the professors in my department just brought this exact program over."

At first, Silas wasn't interested. But I knew every single one of his weaknesses: chronic insomnia, a wrecked stomach, severe allergies

I constantly brainwashed him, pointing out his heavy dark circles and how his entire aura reeked of hormonal decline and exhaustion. I told him he was already getting crow's feet and that he was absolutely suffering from a metabolic crash and premature aging caused by chronic, high-stress pressure!

Then, when the timing was absolutely perfect, I dropped Professor Simone's name.

The biology department is notoriously brutal to survive in, but Simone used her top-tier pharmaceutical background to formulate customized, Silicon Valley-grade supplements specifically for him.

He felt the difference almost immediately. Simone then set him up with an entire team of private doctors and nutritionists who monitored his physical and mental state 24/7, adjusting his daily regimen.

I didn't just sit around either. I hustled to register a company, affiliating it with our department to secure student entrepreneurship grants. With the university's backing, I bulldozed through the red tape and got all the licensing approved. By the time Silas officially signed the contract with Simone, I was already the co-founder of Cyber Biotech.

Chapter 6

Silas leaned back, a renewed vitality radiating from his sharp features. "I really do feel a lot better lately. My sleep is solid, I wake up with actual energy, and with my focus back, crushing work is effortless. I can even squeeze in a workout every day."

I offered him a flawless smile. "I told you. Professor Simone is a top-tier professional."

Silas shifted his gaze to her. "So, what's the exact number?"

"Two million." Simone's lips curled into a slow, deliberate smirk. "Two million a year."

After locking down our first major contract, Simone and I clinked glasses at a high-end bistro to celebrate.

"Your advisor threw an absolute fit when he found out you partnered up with me," Simone mentioned, taking a sip of her drink.

"Is that so? He actually blew up my phone today, practically begging me to come back to the lab."

The second my advisor heard I had launched a startup and secured a massive check from the Lin family, his attitude pulled a screeching one-eighty. Suddenly, he was overly warm, buttering me up and dropping heavy hints about why I didn't bring him in on the deal.

I shut that down immediately. "When it comes to business, I only partner with women. We're detail-oriented, cautious, and we actually know how to read a room."

This was the exact same man who had once sneered right to my face that he was done accepting female grad students. He claimed girls only came to the university to hunt for rich husbands, so he was only taking male students from now on.

Simone swirled the wine in her glass. "So, are you going back?"

I shook my head, taking a bite of my food. "The whole point of a degree is to get a job. I already have one. I have an entire company to run. I told him he could completely revoke my student status for all I care."

Simone raised an eyebrow in surprise before letting out a soft laugh. "Even if he agreed, the university board would never allow it. They're already planning to have you give the outstanding alumni speech at graduation."

"And here's to you getting that full professorship." I raised my glass.

Our glasses clinked with a crisp ring.

Honestly, the core of what I was doing hadn't deviated much from the original plot line. I was still taking absolute, meticulous care of Silas, keeping his body and mind in peak condition, and ensuring he had zero distractions.

The only difference? In the original story, I slaved away in his kitchen, burning my own fingers to serve him. Now? I just outsourced it to a premium medical team, drained a massive paycheck out of his bank account, and accidentally became the golden child of my university in the process. I was no longer the pathetic, tragic little dropout clinging to him for survival.

I never understood why the female leads in those tragic romance tropes were always breaking their backs to take care of men. It reeked of that outdated trad-wife conditioningthe idea that to love a man means you have to mother him. Society loves to brand that as the ultimate feminine virtue.

But if it's such a glorious virtue, why aren't the men scrambling to practice it themselves? Why don't they stay home, scrub the floors, and play the supportive little househusband while the woman goes out to conquer Wall Street and mess around with a dozen boy toys?

I honestly respect the women who can play the perfect domestic partner, but I simply don't have it in me. I have zero desire to take care of peopleespecially men. Expecting me to bleed myself dry to keep some guy warm? Hard pass.

My time is way too expensive for that. So, I decided to play exactly by their rules: I'm going to be completely obsessed with money, ruthlessly power-hungry, and entirely unapologetic about my appreciation for young, attractive eye candy.

Just like the famous quote goes: "My entire life has just been one vulgar, relentless struggle to claw my way up the social ladder."

Chapter 7

When the one-month mark hit, Silas wired me the money. I immediately sent it back.

"I was just joking, Silas. You're Delilah's brother. I think you're a decent guy and I just wanted to be friends. Why would I actually take your money?"

The old, stupidly naive Stella might have accepted that pocket change to be his beck-and-call plaything, walking away without daring to ask for a single dollar in compensation.

Taking all the heat of being a mistress with zero actual benefits? Not me.

If I'm draining your bank account, I'm doing it strictly through legitimate corporate channels, completely scrubbing away any trace of the "stand-in mistress" label.

I took his original thirty grand and bought him a custom Harley-Davidson. When I tossed him the keys, shock rippled across his face before lighting up into pure, boyish excitement. His gaze locked onto me, flickering with something entirely new.

The very next day, a mountain of luxury boxes arrived at my door. A brand-new Dior bag, a Chanel necklace, a Bulgari bracelet.

Perfect. My little lessons on how a real man spends his money were finally paying off.

The original Stella was "pure and simple"which was just billionaire code for "cheap to keep". But now? Now, he knew exactly how much it cost to keep my attention.

In this vulgar little game of social climbing, everyone has a price tag. Your status dictates exactly what kind of gifts you receive and how you are treated.

"I gave you a gift because you're our VIP client," I sent him a voice memo, keeping my tone flawlessly innocent. "What is all this?"

"Congratulations on the successful startup." His voice had lost that icy, untouchable edge from when we first met.

"Then I'll gladly accept. I'll take you out this weekend to test drive your new toy."

When we hit the tracks that weekend, we ran into his inner circle.

"Well, well, who's this? Your little side piece? Damn, she looks exactly like Elise!"

Silas stiffened, a flash of embarrassment crossing his features.

I didn't miss a beat. I casually pulled a sleek business card from my Dior bag and handed it over. "Stella, Co-founder of Cyber Biotech. And you are?"

His buddy glanced at the "Founder" title embossed on the card. His smirk faltered, and he extended a hand. "Chad."

Oh, right. Another idiotic male side character. Silas's childhood best friend.

In the original plot, Chad thought it was an absolute tragedy that Silas and Elise didn't work out, and he viewed Stella as a disgusting gold digger who took advantage of his buddy's heartbreak. He treated the original Stella like a worthless servant, barking orders at her and blaming her for every single thing that went wrong in Silas's life. Whenever they got blackout drunk at strip clubs, they would call her in the middle of the night, ordering her to act as their personal chauffeur.

"Since when do you ride bikes?" Chad asked, eyeing Silas.

Silas shot me a quick glance. "Stella bought me a custom Harley."

Yeah, with your own money, I scoffed internally, though my face maintained a perfectly elegant smile. "He's always buried in work with zero time to unwind. I thought he was getting too tense. Figured he needed a little speed and adrenaline in his life."

Chad let out a low whistle. "Damn. Why aren't gorgeous women buying me custom bikes? Silas, you lucky bastard. Got yourself a sugar mama."

I feigned a look of absolute shock. "Silas and I aren't involved like that. We strictly have a professional business relationship."

Chad's eyes kept darting between us, clearly not buying a single word. "What kind of business? Room for one more?"

"Premium biotech and healthcare." I offered a polite, untouchable smile. "If you're interested, Chad, I'll have my assistant forward you our company portfolio and investment deck."

Chapter 8

Hearing the word "assistant," Chad finally bought it. The cynical smirk wiped clean off his face. He could bark orders at Silas's mistress all day long because a mistress was just a plaything.

But a young founder with zero emotional baggage and real business ties? That was a completely different story. Men at the top of the food chain knew exactly how to calculate someone's worth.

His entire crew had brought their own arm candy. I was dressed just as flawlessly, dripping in the same designer labels, but the invisible line separating me from them was razor-sharp.

The clearest proof happened at the dinner party, when Chad personally poured a glass of top-tier Ace of Spades champagne and offered it to me as a toast.

"My rule is, I don't touch alcohol on my own clock." I coldly pushed the glass away.

I could easily drink them all under the table, but I wasn't about to swallow a single drop just to stroke some man's ego. They meant absolutely nothing to me.

"I'll take it." Silas stood up, intercepting the glass, and downed it in one shot as the table erupted in cheers and whistles.

"Look at you, being a perfect gentleman."

"You taught me well." Silas actually looked genuinely pleased. Having me sitting next to him gave him massive face in front of his circle.

Once we got back, I actually had my assistant forward the investment deck and company portfolio to Chad. "Silas is currently using this exact VIP tier. Feel free to look it over and ask him about his personal results."

Chad was notoriously obsessed with his own libido. I phrased it delicately, guaranteeing our medical team could drastically optimize his bedroom performance. He practically snatched the pen to sign the contract.

I hung out with Silas's inner circle a few more times and systematically flipped every single one of them into my paying clients.

If everyone already assumes you're only after a man's money, then you better ruthlessly drain their bank accounts! Why the hell would you be polite about it?

With my year-end dividends, I bought a massive penthouse right in the city center. On moving day, I specifically invited Silas over for dinner and gave him the grand tour.

"Buying a property in the Grand Estates right out of grad school. You must be the top of your class." Silas's gaze was filled with genuine admiration.

I just smiled, keeping my mouth shut.

How did I know this building was the best? Because he was the one who originally picked it. In the original plot, this was exactly when Silas stashed his little stand-in here.

Three years later, when his precious first love returned, the original Stella just packed a single suitcase and walked away from this multi-million dollar mansion, her mind consumed only by her shattered romance. Why didn't she think about her three wasted years of youth? She should have at least demanded the deed to the damn penthouse!

I tossed the property deed onto the marble coffee table. Staring through the floor-to-ceiling windows, I looked down at the glittering city skyline. Under the sunset, Silas even poured a glass of champagne to toast me.

Life was perfectly beautiful.

By spring, I was busy securing a new round of venture capital. That was when I ran into his mother at the Lin family's private estate gala.

Chapter 9

"So you're Stella? Silas has been throwing a lot of money at you lately." The woman, dripping in jewels, looked me up and down. Her gaze held that distinct, deeply ingrained arrogance of a true Old Money matriarch.

I met her gaze with a flawless, untouchable smile. "My apologies. I originally planned to stop by the estate last week, but a sudden executive meeting kept me tied up."

Silas stood beside me, smoothly stepping in. "She was just awarded the city's Outstanding Young Entrepreneur. She had to attend the summit at City Hall."

Mrs. Lin's eyes widened slightly. "Silas, where on earth did you find such an accomplished girl? That's quite impressive. You look so young."

"I'm Delilah's roommate. When Silas first approached me, he actually mentioned that I looked exactly like an old friend of his. He said it gave him a sense of familiarity." I deliberately shifted my gaze to Silas.

Silas coughed quickly, shooting a sharp, warning look at his mother.

Mrs. Lin let out a stiff laugh. "Oh, you must mean Elise. Elise was our neighbor growing up.

"She was far too erratic and self-centered. Nowhere near as grounded as you. I suppose you share some facial features, but for a woman, true elegance is all about aura."

Oh, wow. I almost laughed out loud. I suddenly remembered how, in the original plot, Mrs. Lin treated me like absolute dirt.

She constantly looked down on me from her high horse and literally tried to write me a check to leave her son. To her, Elise was the perfect, high-society daughter-in-law. I was just a cheap knockoff dragging down their family's prestige.

In the beginning, she did everything in her power to get rid of me. When she couldn't chase me away, she resorted to daily nitpicking. Either the meals I cooked had too much sodium, or the clothes I washed for him weren't scented with enough organic essential oils, risking his 'allergies.' Basically, I was playing the role of Silas's unpaid nanny, and she was the overbearing mother. The mother thought the nanny wasn't serving her precious son well enough and practically wanted to do it herself.

Every time I visited this massive, ridiculously wealthy estate, I was treated like the hired help. If I dared to eat two plums from the crystal fruit bowl, I had to watch her face for permission. It wasn't just stinginess; it was pure psychological warfare. She ruthlessly crushed my dignity to make me feel completely unworthy of their wealth.

But right now? Mrs. Lin affectionately linked her arm through mine, pulling me aside. It turned out the only reason she was so eager to meet me was because Silas had pitched her on our biotech anti-aging program. As a woman in her fifties, her desperation to reverse the clock was practically palpable.

"Our primary demographic consists of young, ultra-high-net-worth individuals"

Because young bodies don't drop dead as easily when taking experimental supplements.

"But since Silas and I are such close friends, if you have a need for this, I will absolutely make an exception."

You were practically begging me to take your money. I'd be an idiot to say no.

"However, I can't guarantee the exact same metabolic reversal results, and daily maintenance can never replace actual clinical care."

We'd put her on a basic placebo routine. If anything went wrong, we'd ship her straight to the ER. She better stack up on that liability insurance.

I already had the entire customized treatment plan mapped out in my head.

Mrs. Lin smiled warmly. "That's perfectly fine. I just want to try it."

What else could I say? I 'reluctantly' drafted the contract. And since her advanced age meant a higher risk profile, I comfortably doubled the premium. Four million dollars a year, straight into my pocket.

Oh, I almost forgot. In the original plot, Stella didn't just act as Silas's maidshe served his mother, too. She bent over backward cooking elaborate meals and hand-delivering expensive skincare every time she visited.

Her reward? She was strictly forbidden from ever stepping foot on the second floor.

The estate maintained an immaculate, empty bedroom permanently reserved for Elise. But Stella? Stella wasn't allowed to stay for a single night.

During their first Christmas together, Stella spent the entire night slaving away in the estate's kitchen. Close to midnight, Mrs. Lin coldly informed her that Silas was already drunk and asleep, ordering her to clean up the mess and leave. While the rest of the world celebrated the holidays, she walked alone through a blinding snowstorm, freezing in the dead of night.

Chapter 10

That evening, Mrs. Lin practically insisted I stay the night. I followed her up the sweeping staircase and stepped into the legendary second-floor guest wing.

"Well?" she asked, her voice laced with forced warmth. "I had this room prepared specifically for you."

I took my time. I slowly scanned the imported silk drapes, the antique vanity, and the plush carpets. I let the absolute silence stretch until the high-society matriarch's expression physically tightened with anxiety.

"Never mind, Mrs. Lin," I finally said, my tone completely flat. "I think I'll just head home."

I adjusted the strap of my Dior bag, turned my back on her, and walked out.

Her face drained of color.

I was entirely dissatisfied with her hospitality. I deemed her carefully prepared guest room completely beneath my standards. And the best part? I would never, ever tell her exactly what was wrong with it. Let her spend her nights anxiously trying to guess my mind, just like the original Stella had been forced to guess hers.

A few weeks later, Mrs. Lin showed up at my corporate headquarters unannounced.

I glanced at the security feed, then pressed the intercom for my executive assistant. "Tell her I'm in a board meeting. Escort her to the guest lounge and make her wait."

"Right away, Ms. Stella."

I had zero interest in playing along with some trashy, billionaire-mother-in-law soap opera. On my turf, even a high-society matriarch had to sit in the waiting room and politely take a number