Chapter15 Envy and Shadows (Mia)
Mia
The moment I stepped into Dior, I knew something was wrong.
The air felt different—charged, electric. Like a storm had just passed through.
"Mom, look." I nudged Evelyn, nodding toward the checkout counter.
A man stood there, back to us. Tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in charcoal Tom Ford that probably cost more than our monthly household budget.
Even from behind, his posture screamed power—spine straight, head high, every inch a king surveying his kingdom.
The sales associate was practically bowing as she processed his card. I caught a glimpse of the receipt she was printing.
Sixty-eight thousand dollars.
My breath caught. Who the hell spent that much without blinking?
He turned slightly, and I got my first real look at his profile. Sharp jaw, high cheekbones, amber eyes that caught the light like a predator's.
His hair was perfectly styled, dark with hints of silver at the temples. Mid-thirties, maybe. The kind of handsome that made you forget how to breathe.
God, he was perfect.
"Mia." Evelyn's voice was low, urgent. "Do you see him?"
"I see him." My pulse quickened. This man was exactly what I needed—wealthy, powerful, probably from one of LA's top-tier families. If I could just get his attention—
Then I noticed movement beside him. A woman stood there, but she was turned away, her back to us. Dark hair fell in soft waves down her back. She was wearing a navy dress that hugged her curves, expensive heels that made her legs look endless.
The man's broad shoulders blocked most of my view of her—I could only see the edge of her silhouette, the curve of her waist.
Something about that silhouette felt familiar, but I couldn't place it.
Didn't matter. Focus on him.
I smoothed down my white Chanel suit, checked my reflection in a nearby mirror, and started walking toward them. Evelyn caught my arm, but I shook her off gently.
This was my chance.
But before I could get within ten feet, the man glanced toward the entrance—toward me—and his expression shifted.
Not interested. Not even curious. Just... aware. Like someone spotting an inconvenience.
He said something low to the woman, his hand settling on her lower back. She immediately turned further away, her posture tense. Then, with practiced efficiency, he guided her toward the exit, his body angling to completely shield her from view.
"Excuse me—" I called out, quickening my pace.
They didn't stop. Didn't even slow down.
The glass doors swung open. A Rolls-Royce was already waiting at the curb, engine idling, driver holding the door.
The man ushered the woman inside with the kind of seamless coordination that spoke of routine, of protection, of possession.
By the time I reached the sidewalk, the car door was closing. I caught one last glimpse—the back of her dark hair, the hem of that navy dress disappearing into leather seats.
Then the Rolls pulled away, smooth and silent, leaving me standing there like a fool.
What the hell had just happened?
I watched them disappear through the exit, fury and humiliation warring in my chest. No one dismissed me. Not anymore. Not since I had reclaimed my rightful place in this world.
"Mia." Evelyn appeared at my elbow, her voice tight. "What were you thinking?"
"I was thinking he's exactly what I need." I snapped, but my hands were shaking. "Did you see him? That's power, Mom. Real power."
I turned back to the counter, where Sophia was carefully not looking at us. Time for plan B.
"Sophia." I approached her, pulling out my wallet. "That gentleman who just left—I need to know his name."
Sophia's professional mask slipped for a second. "I'm sorry, Ms. Sterling. I can't disclose client information."
Of course not. I extracted a stack of hundred-dollar bills. Two thousand dollars—enough to make most people reconsider their principles.
"Please." I leaned in, lowering my voice. "I really need to know. Just his name."
Sophia hesitated, glancing around. The store was nearly empty now, just a few associates straightening displays.
I added another thousand. "That's enough for a nice vacation, isn't it?"
Her resistance crumbled. She took the money quickly, tucking it into her pocket. "His name is Astor. That's all I can tell you."
Astor?
The name hit me like a physical blow. I knew that name. Everyone in LA's elite circles knew that name.
But which Astor? There were several branches of the family, and most kept a low profile. The really powerful ones didn't need to flaunt their wealth—it was simply understood.
"Thank you." I managed to say, though my mind was racing.
Sophia nodded, already turning away. I rejoined Evelyn by the entrance, my thoughts spinning.
"Astor." I told her. "His name is Astor."
Evelyn's eyes widened. "The Astor family? Mia, if you could get close to someone like that—"
"I know." My hands clenched around my Birkin bag. "But who was that woman with him?"
The question gnawed at me. I had barely seen her face—just her back, the curve of her waist, that dark hair. But something about her felt familiar.
I'd seen her before. I knew I had.
But where? And why couldn't I place her?
"We need to find out more." Evelyn said, pulling out her phone. "I'll have your father's assistant look into the Astor family. See which branch is currently active in LA."
I nodded absently, still staring at the spot where they had disappeared. My mind replayed the scene—the way he touched her, the intimacy in that simple gesture. The way he shut me down without a second thought.
That should have been me.
Jealousy burned hot in my chest. I had worked so hard to reclaim my rightful place in this world.
Eighteen years stolen from me, living in poverty while some imposter enjoyed my life. Now that I was finally where I belonged, I deserved the best.
And that man—whoever he was—represented the absolute best.
"Come on." Evelyn tugged my arm. "Let's go home. We have work to do."
Who the hell were they?
I was in my room, surrounded by printouts of society photos, when my phone rang. It was Sarah Chen, one of my former classmates who now worked in PR for a luxury brand.
"Sarah, hey." I answered, trying to sound casual. "What's up?"
"Mia, I heard you've been asking about someone." Sarah's voice was cautious. "A man, dark hair, seen at Dior with a woman?"
My heart leapt. "Yes! Do you know who he is?"
"Not exactly." Sarah paused. "But I heard something interesting. Apparently, there's a new analyst at Astor Capital. Started this week. Young woman, incredibly qualified. Some people are saying she's connected to the CEO somehow."
Astor Capital.
The name clicked into place. Julian Astor's company. The grandson of the family matriarch, supposedly crippled and broke after a car accident years ago.
Crippled and broke? My mind flashed to Chloe's pathetic husband—that decrepit mansion, the rumors of bankruptcy and disability. But that was impossible. That bitch couldn't possibly have anything to do with the real Astor family.
Besides, the man I had seen in Dior was anything but crippled. He had moved with perfect grace, commanded the space around him. And he had shut me down with the kind of cold authority that only came from real power.
"Are you sure it's Astor Capital?" I asked slowly.
"Positive." Sarah confirmed. "My friend works there. She mentioned the new hire because apparently, the CEO personally approved her application. That never happened."
My mind raced. Could it be the same woman?
"Sarah, can you find out more? Her name, background, anything?"
"I'll try." Sarah sounded hesitant. "But Mia, be careful. The Astors are... complicated. They have a lot of power in this city."
"I know." I ended the call, my hands shaking slightly.
This was bigger than I had thought. If that woman really was connected to Julian Astor—if she was working for him, or worse, with him—then she had access to resources I could only dream of.
Who was she? And why did she get everything I should have had?
That man's dismissal still burned. The way he had looked through me like I was nothing. Like I didn't even exist.
No one treated me like that. No one.
I pulled out my phone, dialing Evelyn.
"Mom." My voice was tight. "I found her. She works at Astor Capital. And she's definitely connected to the CEO."
"Connected how?" Evelyn's tone sharpened.
"I don't know yet." I admitted. "But I'm going to find out. Whatever it takes."
Because one thing was clear: that woman had something I wanted.
And I always got what I wanted.
Always.