Taming My Sugar Mommy
Chapter 55: Plan to destroy

Chapter 55: Plan to destroy

Isabella straightened her Armani suit jacket as she entered the mahogany-paneled boardroom, her heels clicking authoritatively on the polished floor. The tension in the air was palpable even before she took her seat at the head of the table. Several board members waited, their expressions ranging from concerned to openly hostile.

"Good morning," she said, her voice steady as she placed her leather portfolio on the table. "Thank you all for coming. I understand we have pressing matters to discuss."

Jonathan Pierce, usually her staunchest ally, looked uncomfortable. "Isabella, the quarterly financials are troubling. Our liquidity has hit its lowest point in five years."

Isabella nodded, maintaining her composure. "Yes, we’ve weathered some unexpected expenses this quarter. However—"

"Unexpected?" Victoria Hargrove cut in, her words dripping with disdain. "Six-figure expenses on ’client relations’ at a luxury hotel in Hong Kong? A month-long rental of a penthouse that hosted exactly one client meeting? These aren’t unexpected expenses, Isabella. They’re indulgences."

Isabella met Victoria’s gaze unflinchingly. "Those investments secured the Rothwell wedding and the Chen family’s anniversary celebration. Combined, they’ll bring in over four million pounds."

"If they materialize," Jonathan said gently. "The contracts aren’t signed yet."

Edwin Cartwright, who had been silently fuming at the far end of the table, finally erupted. "This is madness! The numbers don’t lie, Isabella. Ashworth Luxury Events is bleeding money, and it’s not just business expenses."

He flipped open a folder, adjusting his glasses with theatrical flair. "Personal assistants for private outings. A completely renovated guest house at your country estate." His eyes narrowed as he continued, "And most curiously, a hefty sum spent on a certain... consultant."

The room fell silent. Isabella felt heat rushing to her cheeks but kept her voice measured. "Mr. Campbell is a valuable associate whose expertise has been crucial in several of our most exclusive events."

Edwin’s smile was predatory. "Is that what we’re calling it now? Because from where I sit, it looks like you’re using company resources for personal entanglements."

"That’s enough, Edwin," Jonathan interrupted, though his expression betrayed shared concerns.

"No, let’s call it what it is," Edwin pressed, leaning forward. "Our CEO is compromised. Her judgment is clouded by whatever is happening with this... personal assistant consultant." He practically spat the last two words.

Isabella’s knuckles whitened as she gripped the edge of the table. "My personal life is not up for discussion in this room."

"It is when it affects the company," Victoria chimed in. "We have responsibilities to our shareholders."

"I built this company from nothing," Isabella reminded them, her voice like tempered steel. "Every luxury event, every high-profile client—I brought them in."

"For now," Edwin said quietly, the threat hanging between them.

Victoria, who had been scribbling notes, finally spoke. "We need immediate action. Cost-cutting measures across the board. Scaling back less profitable events. And possibly reducing staff."

"I will not sacrifice my people," Isabella said firmly.

"Then sell some assets," Victoria suggested. "The villa in St. Tropez, perhaps. Or the office space in Mayfair that’s barely utilized."

Isabella shook her head. "Those properties are strategic investments."

Edwin slammed his hand on the table, causing several board members to flinch. "For God’s sake, Isabella! This isn’t your personal playground! You’re burning through capital for what? Luxury villas and that man you’ve been seen with?"

"Every decision I’ve made has been for the long-term benefit of this company," Isabella replied, her voice dangerously soft.

"We’re not seeing the benefits," Edwin retorted. "Only the spending."

Jonathan cleared his throat. "Perhaps a compromise? We could bring in an external financial officer to oversee expenditures for the next month. Someone with experience in revitalizing luxury brands."

Isabella felt a cold wave of dread. An external CFO would limit her control, scrutinize every decision. "That won’t be necessary. I’m prepared to implement stricter financial controls internally."

"Too little, too late," Edwin scoffed. "The board has already discussed this option. We’re prepared to vote on it today."

Isabella looked around the table, reading the faces of each board member. The majority seemed to be siding with Edwin.

"I see," she said quietly. "Then before we vote, I’d like to present my own proposal for addressing these concerns." She opened her portfolio, fighting to keep her hands steady. "I’ve prepared a comprehensive plan that will restore our liquidity without compromising our brand or laying off staff."

Edwin rolled his eyes, but Jonathan held up a hand. "We’ll hear you out, Isabella. But understand this—if your plan doesn’t produce measurable results within one month, we will revisit the external CFO option. And we’ll also need to reevaluate your position as CEO."

The threat hung in the air like a guillotine blade. Isabella nodded once, her mind already calculating her next moves.

"I understand completely," she said, her voice cool but determined. "Now, shall we begin?"

The board meeting had left Edwin seething with frustration as he strode toward his car in the underground parking garage. Isabella thought she could outmaneuver him? Foolish. The numbers didn’t lie—Ashworth Luxury Events was bleeding money, and her arrogance would be the company’s downfall. If she wouldn’t step aside willingly, he’d make sure she had no choice.

The clicking of heels against concrete echoed through the dimly lit space, causing Edwin to turn. A figure emerged from between two luxury vehicles—Seraphina, her silhouette unmistakable even in the shadows.

"Mr. Cartwright," she called out, her voice carrying across the garage. "A moment of your time?"

Edwin paused, briefcase in hand. "Miss Seraphina. This is unexpected."

She approached with deliberate grace. "Is it? You looked quite... troubled in that meeting." She glanced around the garage, then at his sleek black Mercedes. "Perhaps we could speak somewhere more private? Your car, perhaps?"

Edwin’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. "How did you know about the meeting? I don’t recall seeing you there."

Seraphina’s lips curved into a subtle smile. "I make it my business to know what happens at Ashworth. The walls of that boardroom aren’t as soundproof as Isabella might hope. And..." she added, adjusting her designer handbag, "I have my sources."

Edwin assessed her carefully, then clicked his key fob. "Very well."

Once seated in the leather interior of his Mercedes, doors locked and the world shut out, Edwin turned to her. "I assume you’re here for a reason. What is it?"

Seraphina settled into the passenger seat, her blonde curls cascading effortlessly over one shoulder. "Isabella is making reckless decisions, but we both know that already, don’t we?"

Edwin scoffed. "Plainly. And yet, Jonathan still insists on giving her a chance to fix it."

"Jonathan is a fool," she said smoothly. "He believes Isabella can clean up this mess, but you and I? We know better."

Edwin studied her intently in the confined space, the delicate scent of her expensive perfume filling the car. "You’ve got my attention. What exactly are you suggesting?"

Seraphina turned slightly to face him. "Ashworth Luxury Events is at a crossroads. If Isabella fails, the board will force changes. But... why wait for her to fail?" She leaned in slightly. "Why not ensure it happens?"

Edwin’s eyes narrowed. "Go on."

"It’s not just the lavish expenditures that are the problem," Seraphina said, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "Have you noticed how... distracted Isabella has been lately? Her judgment is clouded, and it’s all because of that assistant consultant she’s been seeing. Liam Campbell."

Edwin’s jaw tightened. "I bloody well know about that. It’s why she’s been utterly useless these past months. Running off to Hong Kong with him, barely disguising it as ’business.’" He shook his head in disgust. "The board members see it too, though no one dares say it outright."

"They’re quite the item," Seraphina confirmed, a glint of satisfaction in her eyes. "And it’s affecting every decision she makes. She’s vulnerable, Edwin. And vulnerability in business is an opportunity."

Seraphina smiled, her voice barely above a whisper in the intimate confines of the vehicle. "I have resources, connections. Investors who would eagerly back the company—under the right leadership, of course. You, Edwin."

He let out a short laugh that warmed the cool air between them. "You think the board will hand me control?"

"They will," she assured him. "Once Isabella proves incapable. And I can help speed that along."

Edwin’s fingers drummed against the steering wheel, suddenly more intrigued. "You’re playing a dangerous game, Miss Seraphina."

"I play to win." She shrugged with elegant nonchalance. "Isabella has been careless—reckless, even. All we have to do is... give that recklessness a little nudge."

Edwin’s gaze hardened. "Isn’t Isabella supposed to be your friend? Why are you doing this to her?"

Something flashed in Seraphina’s eyes—a bitterness that vanished as quickly as it appeared, highlighted by the garage’s fluorescent lights filtering through the windows. "Friends? Is that what she told you?" She laughed, the sound knife-sharp in the enclosed space. "Isabella and I have history, yes. But friendship? That ended the moment she took what was rightfully mine."

"And what was that, exactly?" Edwin pressed, his curiosity piqued by the personal vendetta he sensed.

Seraphina’s perfectly manicured nails tapped against the leather armrest. "Let’s just say some debts can only be paid in full. Isabella has been living on borrowed glory for far too long." Her eyes met his, cold and determined in the dim light. "So I ask again, are you with me?"

"And what do you get out of this?" Edwin asked.

Seraphina’s smile turned sharp as a blade. "When the dust settles? A role in Ashworth Luxury Events. Influence. A say in what happens next." She leaned closer, the console between them no barrier to her intensity. "And the satisfaction of watching Isabella finally lose everything she treasures."

Edwin considered her for a long moment, then smirked.

"Miss Seraphina, I think we can help each other."

She extended her hand across the center console, the diamonds on her bracelet catching the light from outside. "Then let’s get started."

He took it. The deal was sealed with a handshake in the shadowy confines of his Mercedes—a conspiracy born in a parking garage that promised destruction.