Welcome to the city of Shanghai. A world of designer clothes, chauffeurs, lavish parties, and juicy scandals. Ever since the Chinese economic boom, rich foreigners have inhabited Shanghai and ruled every inch of the electric city, from the sparkling...
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"WHAT'S MY FUCKING PROBLEM?" Lennox Richmond murmured to her own harrowing reflection. Restless hands and tired eyes, she heaved a disappointed sigh, watching the spinning vial of white powder halt to a stop. You can't, you promised. You fucking promised him.
She was going to stop, that is, until she caught sight of her peers having fun; jumping up and down on the leather sofas while throwing money in the air, making out with boys who's lips tasted like Krug, laughing and drinking till their stomachs hurt... she used to be just as reckless as they were. She used to have the time of her life hitting the hottest parties with Beatrice and Lydia every night.
But now Lennox had locked herself in the marble bathroom of a Ritz-Carlton penthouse, trying to convince herself not to do a line of cocaine. Everyone was having fun while she was on the edge of a breakdown. She wanted to feel as euphoric and carefree as every other privileged kid in town, and vodka wasn't cutting it. But Leo, Lennox promised him she could stop whenever she wanted to. But the thing is, she didn't want to stop.
When Lennox wasn't drunk or high, she felt like the shit on the bottom of someone's Louboutins. What she was questioning is, why? She had hot friends, millions of Instagram followers, dreamy prep boys drooling over her, a promising modelling career, an envious lake-front mansion, and a closet full of designer clothes. On paper, she had an amazing life. A life that was picture-perfect. A life that people dreamed of. So why did she feel such... emptiness?
An emptiness that no amount of thousand dollar shopping trips and modelling shoots in Milan and sloppy drunk nights with her friends could fill. Lennox had been blessed with inhumanly good looks, and all her life, she had been basking in the glory of winning the genetic lottery. She was rich and pretty and popular. It was easy to play the script she was given. It was easy to forget her problems. All it took was a swipe of her Am-ex card at Neiman's or a night of downing Dom Perrignon at a party.
But since Lennox caught her father at the Hilton with another woman, it was different. Suddenly all the luxuries she had been given since birth, all the distractions, weren't enough. Lennox wasn't the only rich kid who's dad was having an affair, she certainly wasn't the only one with uninvolved parents, so all of it puzzled her. She shouldn't care so badly about the betrayal of a man who never loved her.
Ugh. Come on, Lennox. There are people dying for heaven's sake.
"Um, hello! what's taking so long? We're all waiting!" Someone growled on the other side of the door, knocking loudly to get her attention.
Crap. Lennox had forgotten drunk people meant long lines to the bathroom. She rushed all of her things into her Versace wristlet, fluffed up her high pony, and smacked her lips to distribute the red lipstick. "Sorry about that, a girl's gotta retouch her make up." Lennox stumbled out of the bedroom and came face to face with a petite fourteen year old girl.
