Taming My Sugar Mommy
Chapter 47: Choice

Chapter 47: Choice

They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, watching the tai chi practitioners move with deliberate grace. Around them, Hong Kong continued its relentless pace, but in this garden, time seemed to slow.

Liam watched Isabella’s profile as she observed the practiced movements before them. A sense of peace had settled over her features—something he had never truly seen before. Not since before the night he’d watched that damned security footage. The image of the silver letter opener flashed in his mind, along with the look in her eyes as she’d realized what she’d done. ’Three days of peace before everything explodes,’ he thought bitterly.

"What are you thinking about?" Isabella asked, catching his concerned expression.

He composed his features quickly. ’Can she see it in my eyes? The truth I know about her?’ He offered a small smile. "Just taking in the moment. It’s not often we get to sit and breathe like this."

Isabella nodded, her throat tight. "Somewhere between the IPO and the European expansion, I... disappeared into the job."

’After your father died. After that night.’ The words hovered unspoken between them. The distant sound of a temple bell rang through the afternoon air. A child laughed somewhere nearby, the sound bright and carefree – a stark contrast to the shadows hanging over them both.

"So what now?" Liam asked, not pressing but genuinely curious, trying to focus on her rather than the weight of Seraphina’s blackmail.

Isabella took a deep breath. "We figure it out. Day by day." She smiled slightly. "I hear that’s how normal people live."

"Ah, yes, ’normal people’—that mythical species," Liam teased, but the irony wasn’t lost on him. There was nothing normal about any of this – the woman he was falling for had killed her father, and he was being blackmailed to betray her.

Isabella laughed, the sound surprisingly free. "I may need a translator. Someone familiar with their strange customs."

"Lucky for you, I’m somewhat knowledgeable," he said, standing and offering her his hand. "First lesson: when on vacation, one must find the most ridiculously touristy thing possible and do it with complete abandon."

Isabella raised an eyebrow as she took his hand. "That doesn’t sound like you."

"I contain multitudes," Liam said with mock seriousness. "Besides, I saw a sign for a double-decker bus tour with complimentary bubble tea. How can we possibly resist?"

As they left the garden, Liam felt the burden of his secret crushing him. ’Three days to pretend everything is fine. Three days before she learns her oldest friend is trying to force her out of her own company.’

His phone vibrated in his pocket. Glancing down while Isabella paused to admire a street vendor’s display of jade bracelets, he saw Seraphina’s name on the screen. His stomach twisted into a knot.

*Two days left, Liam. I need your answer. Her secret stays buried, or I bury her career. Your choice.*

He deleted the message, fingers trembling slightly. The memory of the footage played in his mind—Isabella’s face contorted in terror as her father’s hands closed around her throat, the desperate swing of the letter opener, the shock in her eyes. ’Self-defense or opportunity?’ The question had haunted him since viewing the video. Seraphina had known exactly what she was doing when she’d shown it to him.

"Everything okay?" Isabella asked, returning to his side with a small paper bag containing a bracelet.

"Just work," he lied, tucking the phone away.

Isabella’s eyes narrowed slightly. "You’re a terrible liar, Liam. Always have been."

His heart stuttered. "What?"

"Your left eyebrow twitches," she said, reaching up to touch it gently. "Dead giveaway. But I appreciate you trying to keep work at bay." She looped her arm through his. "Now, about that ridiculous tourist bus..."

They boarded the bright red double-decker, climbing to the top level where the Hong Kong skyline sprawled in every direction. As the recorded tour guide droned facts about colonial architecture and harbor statistics through tinny speakers, Liam caught sight of a familiar figure on the sidewalk below. There are watching from the shadows, phone to ear, speaking rapidly.

’Reporting to whom?’ Liam wondered, the paranoia that had become his constant companion since seeing the video surging again. He shifted uncomfortably. After seeing what her father had done to her, his instinct to protect her had only grown stronger, despite everything.

Isabella rested her head against his shoulder, unaware of his surveillance. "I haven’t done something this silly in years," she confessed, sipping her bubble tea. "Maybe not since college."

"With Seraphina?" he asked carefully, testing the waters.

A shadow passed over Isabella’s face. "Yeah. She was... different then. Before she became so..." She trailed off, searching for the right word. "Calculated."

’If you only knew,’ Liam thought, remembering Seraphina’s cold smile as she’d laid out her terms.

Isabella straightened, changing the subject. "Did I ever tell you about the summer we backpacked through Thailand? Before everything with my father..."

She trailed off, that familiar haunted look flickering across her features. Liam now understood that look—the memory of violence, of blood on her hands. The official story—heart attack, Isabella finding him too late—was a lie that had protected her all these years.

"We don’t have to talk about that," he said gently, reaching for her hand.

Isabella nodded gratefully, but her posture had changed—more rigid, the relaxation of moments before evaporated. "I’ve been meaning to ask," she said, her voice carefully neutral, "have you noticed anything strange at the office lately?"

The question caught him off guard. "Strange how?"

"Missing files. Meetings I wasn’t informed about." She stirred her drink, eyes fixed on the passing buildings. "Someone accessed the secure server last month. Christina caught it, but we couldn’t trace who."

Liam felt a chill despite the humid heat. ’She knows something’s wrong. She just doesn’t know what—or who.’ The irony wasn’t lost on him. Isabella was hunting for a traitor, unaware that he sat beside her, compromised by her oldest friend.

"I thought it was probably nothing," Isabella continued, "but sometimes I feel like... like the ground is shifting under me. Like something’s coming."

Her perceptiveness had always been what made her a brilliant CEO. The same calculated intelligence he’d witnessed in the video—wiping the letter opener clean, taking the journal, planning even in the aftermath of trauma.

"You work too hard," he deflected, squeezing her hand. "Seeing conspiracies where there’s probably just typical corporate inefficiency."

She didn’t look convinced but nodded anyway. "Probably right. Paranoia is the CEO’s constant companion." She forced a smile. "Sorry. Not very vacation-like conversation."

The bus lurched to a stop near the waterfront, and they disembarked into the golden late afternoon light. Street lamps were beginning to flicker on, and neon signs blazed to life against the darkening sky.

"Hungry?" Liam asked, eager to shift to safer topics.

"Starving," she admitted. "Christina mentioned a night market nearby that’s supposed to be amazing."

As they walked toward the market, Liam felt his phone vibrate again. This time, it wasn’t a text but an email—a video attachment from an anonymous account. The preview showed a single frame: Isabella standing in her father’s study, something clutched in her hand. The letter opener, gleaming silver against the darkness.

Liam’s blood went cold. ’She’s toying with me. Reminding me what’s at stake.’ The clock was ticking, and somewhere in this city, Seraphina spy was watching, she is for waiting for him to break.

He slipped the phone back into his pocket without opening the video. Whatever demons haunted Isabella, whatever lines she had crossed that night, he needed time to figure out his next move. Three days in Hong Kong had suddenly become a dangerous game of loyalty, desire, and survival.

The night market engulfed them in a riot of color, sound, and scent, the perfect cover for secrets and lies. Isabella laughed at something a vendor said, the sound carrying through the evening air, blissfully unaware that the man beside her held her fate in his hands.

Liam watched her, heart aching. The image of Jonathan Ashworth’s violence played against the Isabella he saw now—strong yet vulnerable, guarded yet genuine. ’What would I have done in her place?’ he wondered, not for the first time.

He had three days to decide: protect the woman he was falling for, whose desperate act of self-defense had altered both their lives forever, or save himself from the inevitable fallout when her carefully constructed world came crashing down.

A street food vendor handed Isabella a skewer of grilled meat, and she turned to him with a smile that made his chest tighten.

"Try this," she said, holding it out to him. "Christina says it’s a local specialty."

He took a bite, barely tasting it, lost in the impossible choice before him. Isabella’s eyes shone in the neon lights, and for a moment, all Liam could see was the young woman from the security footage, bloodied and terrified, fighting for her life.

’How can I betray her when I might have done the same thing?’