The Lapdog's Last Laugh

I was Logan Vance’s side piece for six years. Everyone knew I loved him. Everyone also knew I was his desperate, pathetic lapdog. When he pursued other girls, I ordered the flowers. When he booked hotel rooms, I delivered the condoms. When people cursed him out, I took the beatings. Everyone looked down on me with utter disgust. I didn't care in the slightest. Later, on New Year’s Eve, the midnight chimes rang out, and the entire city was celebrating. I poured a glass of liquor right over his head, shattered the glass on the floor, and smiled the most genuine, happiest smile I had worn in years. "Happy New Year. May everything broken bring you peace." When Logan called, I was tossing and turning in an uneasy sleep, violently jolted awake by the shrill ringtone. Without even catching my breath, I swiped to answer. "Took you long enough. Are you dead or something?" Logan’s tone was as impatient as ever. Before I could reply, he barked, "Chloe wants pizza from the West Side. Bring it to the Grand Hyatt within thirty minutes." He hung up immediately. I checked the time: 3:00 AM. Not daring to waste a second, I scrambled out of bed and threw on some clothes. The moment I stepped outside, the biting winter wind tore through my coat like a knife. I bought the pizza as fast as humanly possible and sped toward the Grand Hyatt. Even though I rushed like my life depended on it, I was still a few minutes late. Standing in front of the suite door with the pizza box in hand, I was panting heavily. Without resting for a single second, I knocked. The person who opened the door wasn't Logan. It was an unfamiliar face—very young, gorgeous, definitely under twenty. She must be the "Chloe" Logan had mentioned. She looked me up and down, pure disdain practically oozing from her eyes. Covering her mouth, she giggled softly, "Oh, you actually came?" Logan walked out from behind her, wearing nothing but a bath towel around his waist. There were fresh scratch marks across his chest. He frowned at me. "Didn't I tell you to get here within half an hour? You can't even handle a simple errand. Completely useless." I explained in a low voice, "It’s snowing heavily outside, and it was hard to catch an Uber, so—" Chloe poured fuel on the fire. "Oh, come on! If you couldn't make it, just say so. Why make excuses, Miss Summer?" I lowered my head and apologized, "I'm sorry." Stiffening my frozen hands, I held out the box. "Here’s the pizza you wanted." She took it, sifted through it with disgust, and then pulled out a carton of milk. Turning to Logan, she whined playfully: "Didn't you tell her, Logan? I'm allergic to milk. What if something happens to me?" She then pretended to lose her grip, dropping the milk straight onto the floor—splashing it right over my boots and ankles. Having been carried all the way here, the milk was still warm. My freezing feet reflexively jerked back; the sudden heat burned against my numb skin. Chloe burst into a fit of giggles. Logan waved his hand in tired annoyance. "Whatever. You can't even get this right. Get lost!" With that, he turned and walked back into the room. Chloe tossed the pizza box at my feet and said in a condescending, charitable tone, "I don't even want it anymore. Consider it a handout—you can eat it." She slammed the door shut with a loud bang. I rubbed my stiff, frozen hands, picked up the pizza box from the floor, and slowly walked outside, step by step. As I exited the hotel lobby, a scruffy homeless man holding an empty cup approached me, asking for change. Listening to his slurred words, I couldn't help but smile faintly. I gave him all the cash I had on me, along with the box of lukewarm pizza. He excitedly showered me with blessings. I looked at the giant LED billboard across the street displaying the countdown to midnight. "Yeah. Early Happy New Year to both of us."I thought that after this, Logan would leave me alone for at least a couple of days. After all, he had a shiny new toy. And I would finally get some peace and quiet. Yet just a day later, he messaged me again. [6:00 PM. Meet me at the bakery where you work.] Logan rarely texted me; he usually just called to bark orders. Whoever had his phone and texted me in his name was probably someone with real status. I only had one choice. This wasn't the first time something like this had happened. People often used Logan’s name to summon me just to toy with me and humiliate me. It didn't matter. I was used to it. I took a deep breath, clenched my fists, and told myself to endure it no matter what. The bakery was packed that day. Orders were piling up so fast that I barely had time to breathe, and I almost forgot about the appointment. It wasn't until a woman in an apricot trench coat, wavy hair, and dark designer sunglasses walked up to the counter that I snapped out of it. Without looking up, I reflexively said, "Hi, welcome in! What can I get started for you?" She took off her sunglasses, scrutinized me thoroughly, and parted her red lips: "Are you Summer?" The woman introduced herself, "Hello. I'm Logan Vance’s fiancée, Jane Miller." My mind went blank for a second. I had never heard of Logan having a fiancée. Jane took a gentle sip of her coffee and said calmly, "It was an arrangement made by our families when we were kids. If my parents hadn't brought it up, I wouldn't have known either." So? What was she getting at? Jane maintained a relaxed posture, chatting like an old acquaintance. "Logan and I are essentially a business match. We were supposed to get married in two years, but something came up with my family, so we moved the schedule up." "You don't need to be nervous. I’m not here to give you a hard time. You probably know why I’m here, though. Since our families are merging, we have to keep up appearances. Girls like you..." She looked me up and down once more, continuing, "I ran a background check on you. Bachelor's and Master's degrees from NYU. You’re a top student. With that degree, you could easily make six figures at a good firm. Yet you threw away six years of your life on a guy like Logan Vance." Her confusion seemed genuinely sincere. I never expected someone so rational to exist in Logan’s circle. I honestly thought his fiancée would be just another Chloe or some airhead socialite. Jane sighed. "Forget it. I came here expecting to find some gold-digger, but you’re actually working part-time in a hole-in-the-wall place like this. Turns out you're just a brainwashed, lovesick doormat." She curled her lip. "And Logan... not only is he a toxic, cheating bastard, but he's also a cheapskate." "Long story short: give up on him. Break it off early. It's better for everyone." I let out a soft sigh. "You want me to leave him?" Jane gave an indifferent look. "What else?" I lowered my head, whispering softly, "I'm sorry." Jane let out an exasperated scoff. "Ha? Are you insane? Do you really love him that much?" I nodded. "I love him simply because I love him. There's no other reason. I'm willing to give everything for him." Jane looked as if she had been struck by lightning. "Miss Miller, I know this is wrong, but... I do it willingly! Don't worry, once you two are officially married, I will disappear from your lives forever." With that, I forced a few tears out of my eyes. Jane stared at me for a long time, her expression a mix of pity and disgust. "You are genuinely sick in the head." Leaving those words behind, she turned on her heel and walked out.Almost the moment Jane left, Chloe walked in, bringing someone else with her. She was decked out head-to-toe in luxury designer labels, wearing a tiny miniskirt despite the freezing dead of winter. Didn't she feel cold? Then again, she did have a great figure; no wonder Logan took a liking to her. I took one brief glance and pulled my gaze back. Chloe had clearly come looking for trouble. She called me out by name, demanding that I serve her. The manager was a snob. Seeing Chloe draped in high-end brands, he knew she was a wealthy customer he couldn't afford to offend, so he immediately shoved me forward. Keeping my head down, I asked, "What can I get for you?" Chloe, sporting a fresh set of long acrylic nails, waved her fingers dismissively over the menu board with an arrogant smirk. "Introduce your signature items to me." I gave a brief, standard rundown, but she scoffed in displeasure. "That's it? What kind of attitude is that? If you don't want to work here, just quit! Get your manager out here right now!" Sweating profusely, the manager wiped his forehead and apologized profusely, shifting every ounce of blame onto me. I replied evenly, "We only have three signature pastries, and I've already introduced each of them to you." The manager clicked his tongue and scolded me, "The customer is always right! What's with that attitude? Apologize to the lady right now!" What attitude? Was I supposed to drop to my knees just to read off the menu? Still, I gritted my teeth and apologized to Chloe. Smug with triumph, Chloe said, "Fine then. Walk me through every single item on this menu." There were over a hundred pastries and drinks combined. Going through all of them would take forever. Yet I started from the very top. I spoke until my mouth was bone-dry and my throat itched so badly that I couldn't hold back a cough. Only then did Chloe pinch her nose in disgust and cut me off. "Enough, stop coughing! Who knows what kind of contagious disease you're carrying? Gross." She tilted her chin up proudly. "Just give me two of the most expensive items in this shop." Then she turned to the person beside her. "Order something too, Sis." The woman Chloe called "sister" was the polar opposite of her. If Chloe was a flashy swan, her sister was an invisible, plain duckling. She wore faded, washed-out clothes, plain black-rimmed glasses, and carried herself with stiff, timid posture. She frantically waved her hands, glanced at me, and whispered that she didn't want anything. She looked familiar, but I couldn't place where I had seen her before. Chloe complained, "I offer to pay and you won't even take it. Don't go crying to Mom and Dad later, claiming I only ever ask you for handouts." She snapped her gaze back to me. "What are you standing there for? Pack them up! You think I have all day like you? My time is valuable." I quickly boxed the pastries, but to my surprise, she grabbed the bag and turned to walk out. I stepped forward to block her. "You haven't paid yet." Chloe acted as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "Can't you just pay for me?" I thought she must have lost her mind. Why on earth would I pay for her? Chloe sneered, "These cakes are for Logan. Aren't you his loyal little pet? What, you aren't even willing to cover a few bucks for him?" She threatened me, "Should I call Logan right now and let him know?"Before leaving, Chloe mocked me with a look that said 'I knew it': "Summer, you really are pathetic." As soon as they left, the manager’s bowed back snapped straight. Poking a finger in my face, he barked, "Look at your damn attitude! If you don't want the job, pack your shit and leave! Can't even work a counter properly. A grad student from NYU? Total waste of time. Getting a degree did nothing for you." The manager had a massive chip on his shoulder regarding higher education. Ever since he found out I was a grad student, he had looked down on me, constantly preaching that degrees were worthless and that going to school was pointless compared to working in a factory. I rolled my eyes internally. Did he think his barely-there high school diploma was worth a fortune? If this shop hadn't been right next to campus, I wouldn't have bothered taking a part-time job here. As he kept scolding me, he docked my pay. "Half of your paycheck this month is gone. And you're paying for that cake out of pocket." After busting my ass all day, not only did I lose half my pay, but I also got chewed out. There truly wasn't an unluckier person in the world than me. And of course, the bad luck didn't stop there. Logan called again, commanding me to come over tonight. Logan was the quintessential trust-fund playboy. His family had billions. Since graduating college years ago, he had never worked a single day in his life, spending every waking hour partying, drinking, and chasing girls. He was an only child. Though his parents were constantly frustrated by his antics, he was still the sole heir to the empire, so as long as he didn't cross major legal lines, they turned a blind eye. When I arrived at the upscale lounge he mentioned, their party was already halfway through. Chloe was wearing a revealing dress, draped seductively over Logan's shoulder. Seeing me enter, she let out a petty scoff. The VIP table was littered with empty liquor bottles, cards, and cigarette butts in utter chaos. Resting among the mess were the two mango mousse cakes Chloe had taken from the shop earlier. Logan lifted his heavy eyelids, threw a cold glance my way, and sneered, "Can't even summon you on time anymore? I told you ten o'clock. Do you have any idea what time it is?" Did he really think everyone was an unemployed parasite like him? I was a student with a thesis to write and a job to work. I kept my head down and answered meekly, "The bakery was really busy today..." Logan grew even more impatient. "Who gives a damn about a shitty bakery job! You think some minimum-wage shift is more important than me?" I stayed silent. Logan slammed his glass onto the marble table with a loud "crack". The noise startled the entire lounge. Chloe caught his arm, quickly soothing him, "Oh, don't be mad, Logan. She isn't worth ruining your mood over." Hearing that, Logan shot her a freezing, piercing glare. Chloe’s smile nearly froze off her face. "W-what is it, Logan?" Logan turned away, sliding back into his usual lazy, uncaring demeanor. "Nothing. You're right. Someone like her isn't worth the energy." He dragged out the last sentence intentionally. Chloe giggled coquettishly and tapped his chest with a playful fist. Then, she threw me a mocking smirk. "Since Miss Summer arrived so late, she should drink three penalty shots first."To be honest, I really didn't want to drink. After wrapping up my shift, I had rushed straight back to campus to work on my thesis, having had no time to eat. My stomach was completely empty. Chloe had clearly planned this. The three glasses on the table were massive, filled with heavy, mixed hard liquors. If I drank all three on an empty stomach, I wasn't sure I’d be able to walk out of this lounge alive. Seeing me hesitate, Chloe frowned petulantly. "What, you ruined Logan’s mood by being late, and you can't even stomach a few drinks?" I looked over at Logan. He was watching me too. Catching my gaze, he raised a lazy eyebrow. "Are you deaf? Didn't you hear what Chloe said? Hurry up. Don't ruin everyone's night." "Drink, or we break up." The moment he said that, the crowd around the table erupted into jeers and cheers. I quickly stepped forward, grabbed the first glass, and poured the burn down my throat. Before the alcohol even hit my stomach, I gasped out desperately, "Don't break up with me, please." I had zero alcohol tolerance, but I knew that if I didn't finish these, they would never let me leave. More importantly, Logan would end things with me. I couldn't fathom what would happen if he dumped me right at this exact moment. Even when the liquor choked my throat, I merely coughed a couple of times and kept chugging. By the time I tipped back the third glass, my vision was blurring and my head was spinning. In the haze, I vaguely heard Logan snap angrily: "Stop drinking!" I ignored him. As the final drop went down, I stumbled backward, completely drunk. Logan stared at me with an unreadable expression, cursing under his breath, "Are you an idiot?" I flashed him a bright, radiant smile. "I just love you." Logan stiffened. He grabbed a drink to cover his sudden unease, then scoffed arrogantly, "As if you're worthy." Beside him, Chloe gritted her teeth in fury. Turning back to me, she sneered, "You've been working all day, so you probably haven't eaten, right? Why don't you finish the cakes on the table? It'd be a waste to throw them away." Her voice dripped with fake charity, barely masking the sheer malice underneath. She definitely knew I was severely allergic to mangoes. I looked at Logan again. He knew about my allergy too. Logan opened his mouth to say something, but before the words came out, Chloe planted a wet kiss on his cheek. Right in front of everyone, the two of them began making out passionately. I understood. His silence was his consent. I picked up the first mango cake. Seeing no fork provided, I grabbed it directly with my bare hands. The heavy liquor hit my bloodstream with full force. Through the fog, I heard Chloe’s disgusted laughter. "Ew, look at how gross she is, shoving it into her mouth with her bare hands." I didn't need to look up to know that everyone in the VIP booth was laughing at the spectacle. Phone flashes went off in my face, blinding my watery eyes. I mechanically chewed and swallowed. My skin began to burn and prickle with sharp, itchy hives. Within moments, red blotches broke out across my face and arms. Just as I finished the first cake and reached for the second, a firm hand grabbed my wrist.I looked up and saw Jane Miller glaring at Logan with undisguised disgust. "Revolting. Aren't you afraid of catching a disease sleeping with trash like this?" She spoke bluntly, turning Chloe’s face completely pale, while Logan instinctively pushed Chloe away. Jane belonged to the same elite social tier. Even though she hadn't mingled much with his crowd before, now that the engagement was announced, nobody dared to cross her. Logan looked annoyed. "You're meddling too much." Jane replied coldly, "I have no interest in babysitting you. I’m just warning you not to catch an STD before we even make it to the altar." With that, she hauled me toward the exit. Before crossing the threshold, I looked back at Logan and murmured, "Don't drink too much. Don't stay out too late." Jane’s pace instantly quickened, practically dragging me out. Once outside in the chilly night air, she dropped my arm and snapped sarcastically: "I really didn't believe the rumors, but you actually are this pathetic. Were you born to be a lapdog?" The movement made my stomach violently churn, but I still tilted my head up and smiled at her. "Thank you." Jane’s expression shifted subtly. Helping me toward her car, she muttered: "I’m not doing this for you. You just looked strangely familiar... but mostly, I just think you're an utter fool." She began lecturing me with exasperation, "Why are you putting yourself through this? You've followed Logan Vance for six years—do you still not realize what kind of scumbag he is?" I closed my eyes and sighed softly, whispering under my breath, "Yeah... it’s almost been six whole years..." Between acute gastric bleeding and a severe allergic reaction, I spent three days in the hospital. During that time, Jane let slip that their wedding was scheduled for January—right after the New Year. Jane shook her head at me, telling me to stop being delusional. Logan would never love me; he was going to dump me sooner or later anyway. January... right after New Year's... I listened in a daze, and tears suddenly spilled down my cheeks. Startled, Jane grabbed a tissue and awkwardly wiped my face. I waved my hand gently. "I'm okay." Once I gathered my composure, I told her sincerely, "Don't worry. Once you two officially get engaged, I won't bother him ever again." I wanted to say more, but the words caught in my throat. Just wait a little longer. Wait until everything is settled. After all, I had waited for so many years. Jane left behind an exasperated "Whatever, do what you want," and walked out. The minute I was discharged, I headed straight back to campus. The revisions on my journal submission still needed finishing touches. I just hadn't expected another headache to be waiting for me.Chloe’s sister, Rainey, stood right in front of me. Though she wore a timid, nervous expression, the words coming out of her mouth were utterly shocking. I wondered if my ears were playing tricks on me. "You're saying you want first authorship on my paper?" Rainey swallowed hard, her nerves showing. "Yes. I... I heard your paper was accepted into a top-tier Q1 journal. I just... I want to be the first author..." She was so nervous she could barely string a sentence together. I nearly laughed out of sheer disbelief. No wonder she had looked familiar in the bakery; she was an undergraduate who had recently joined our research lab for her senior thesis. Yet the moment she opened her mouth, she demanded first author. Talk about delusional greed. "You're an undergrad. Why do you need first authorship on my research?" Rainey gave a strange, frantic grin. "If I have first author on a Q1 publication, I can secure direct admission to grad school without exams, and I won't have to worry about scholarships..." I was speechless. The two sisters really were cut from the very same cloth. I shut her down. "Forget the fact that you didn't contribute a single line of data—you don't even understand my research topic. On what grounds should I give it to you?" Her smile instantly morphed into something twisted. "I know you're obsessed with Logan Vance. Chloe said that if you don't agree, she'll make him dump you." I glared at her coldly. "Are you threatening me?" Flinching slightly under my gaze, she nonetheless pushed forward excitedly: "Chloe said so! If you don't agree, she'll tell Logan to break up with you on the spot! "Aren't you head over heels for him? The entire university knows you're his desperate little lapdog, that you can't survive without him..." I clenched my jaw, watching her smug, desperate face, fighting the urge to slap her. In the end, I agreed. I had worked tirelessly for years; I couldn't afford to let everything crumble at the final hurdle. She watched with unhinged excitement as I swapped her name into the first-author slot. Thinking it had been too easy, she even forced me to bump myself down to second author. Watching her snap photos to boast on her private social feeds, I murmured quietly, "I hope you have the stomach to digest this generous gift." Assuming I was just lashing out in helpless defeat, she threw a few mocking sneers my way and strutted off. The very next morning, my academic advisor noticed the author swap and immediately called me in a panic. "It's fine, Professor. Someone wanted something for nothing, and I simply gave her what she wished for. As for the consequences, she’ll have to bear them herself." My voice was entirely calm as I told my advisor not to worry about a thing. After hanging up, I received another message from Logan. Same VIP lounge. Demanding I show up tonight. I stared at the date on my phone screen: New Year's Eve. Slowly, I closed my eyes. When I opened them again, they were a lake of absolute serenity. Just like every previous year, Logan and his pack of spoiled frat-boy friends were gathering to ring in the New Year. The party was always held at the same exclusive private club. Counting tonight, I had visited this venue six times. And from the day I first started chasing Logan until today, it had been exactly six full years. I pushed open the heavy double doors of the VIP suite. Logan sat right at the center of the largest velvet couch. Every head in the room turned toward me, their eyes filled with the usual cocktail of mockery, condescension, and sheer disdain. Chloe rolled her eyes at me and opened her mouth to sneer, but Logan raised a hand to cut her off. He turned his anger on me instead. "Didn't I tell you to be here at ten? Look at the damn time!" I checked my watch: 11:55 PM. Letting the door click shut behind me, I walked inside, step by deliberate step. My voice was eerily calm. "Something unexpected came up. A stranger suddenly came up to me and demanded first authorship on my research paper."Though Logan was an uneducated trust-fund playboy, he had at least managed to buy his way through college. He knew that for STEM publications like mine, a first-author credit wasn't something handed out like party favors. He frowned, momentarily forgetting that I was hours late. "Who has the balls to pull that shit?" I glanced at Chloe, whose expression was already faltering with guilt, and offered a faint smile. "Apparently, someone heard about my relationship with you and used it as leverage. She said if I didn't hand it over, she'd have you dump me." Logan froze, clearly surprised by the revelation. Chloe, unable to sit still, burst out defensively, "It's just a stupid paper! What's the big deal? If it's gone, you can just write another one!" Right. Just a paper. Just the culmination of two agonizing years of sleepless nights. Just a breakthrough project destined for an elite academic journal. To someone like Chloe—an academic failure who barely managed to finish high school through public funding, and whose cash-strapped family blew their life savings just to squeeze her into a bottom-tier for-profit community college—research meant nothing. Girls like her probably didn't even know what Google Scholar was. Chloe covered her tracks by adding aggressively, "Or do you just not love Logan at all? You aren't even willing to give up a little piece of paper for him?" She shot me a challenging glare, convinced I would bow down as I always did. Logan’s expression shifted several times before he settled on a dismissive scoff. "Chloe's right. If the paper's gone, write another one. I haven't even punished you for showing up this late." I looked him straight in the eyes. "So you think I should just hand over years of hard work to a complete stranger, just to keep you from dumping me? "You know damn well how hard I worked on this project. Running literature reviews, spending nights in the lab, routinely grinding until four or five in the morning. And after sleeping barely thirty minutes, I’d still rush out into the cold to bring you breakfast." I let out a cold, sharp laugh. "She doesn't get it, but don't you have a bachelor's degree? "Oh, I almost forgot. I wrote your graduation thesis for you." Chloe realized I was insulting her intelligence and shrieked instantly: "What the hell is that supposed to mean? Are you calling me stupid? You think you're special just because you're in grad school—" "Shut up!" Logan roared. Hearing that, Chloe turned to me smugly. "Did you hear that? Logan told you to shut up!" Logan shoved her hard, sending her tumbling onto the plush couch. "I told "you" to shut up." "Logan, she just insulted you too—"Chloe’s face went paper-white. The moment she tried to defend herself, Logan’s lethal glare choked the words right in her throat. Logan turned to me, irritated and restless. "Aren't you supposedly hopelessly in love with me? Why the hell are you throwing a tantrum over something so trivial?" Ah. So he had known all along. He had known, and he had chosen to trample on my devotion anyway. Two years of blood, sweat, and tears were nothing more than "something trivial" in his eyes. I didn't answer his question. Walking right up to him, I asked, "I heard you're getting officially engaged after the New Year. Is that true?" Hearing this, Logan’s posture eased up slightly, though his tone remained patronizingly annoyed. "So what if I am? I told you from day one that we were never going to end up together." Seeing that I didn't speak, he added magnanimously, "Besides, it's just a business engagement. Jane and I are going to do our own things anyway. If you behave..." I cut him off: "In all these years, have you ever felt a single shred of genuine affection for me? Even if it wasn't love." Logan’s face twitched awkwardly, quickly masked by his usual smug vanity. He paused for a few beats. Under the expectant gazes of his friends, he put on his standard arrogant sneer: "Look in the mirror. Are you even worthy of my affection? But hey, considering you've served me for so many years, I won't dump you even after I get engaged." He was offering to make me his secret side piece? Sometimes, I genuinely wanted to crack his skull open to see what kind of garbage was rattling inside. Even after we had supposedly started dating, Logan was sleeping with different women every other day. When those girls threw tantrums and refused to leave no matter how much cash he threw at them, he’d drag me out as his "official girlfriend" to clean up the mess. One freezing winter, a scorned girl threw a cup of scalding coffee all over me, blistering my skin. Logan didn't even glance at my burns; he only blamed me for not handling the situation smoothly. If I voiced the slightest grievance, he would curse at me viciously, calling me a hypocrite pretending to be a saint. He’d shout that if I hadn't refused to sleep with him, he wouldn't have needed to find other women in the first place. He resented me because I wouldn't let him touch my hands, let alone kiss my lips. Having seen the parade of random women flowing through his bed, I knew that if he had ever kissed me, I would have vomited straight into his mouth. And now, even with an official fiancée, he had the audacity to offer me the role of his mistress in front of an entire room of people. As if he were bestowing some grand royal honor upon me. It was utterly revolting. It made me want to puke. Thankfully, it was all coming to an end. The clock struck midnight. The chimes echoed in the distance, but the private suite fell into dead silence. Breaking the quiet, I smiled brightly and said: "Let's break up."