Taming My Sugar Mommy
Chapter 71: Set up

Chapter 71: Set up

"Isabella Ashworth, you are under arrest for the murder of Charles Ashworth."

The words hung in the air, so incongruous with the situation that for a moment, no one moved. Isabella’s composure, which had weathered countless corporate crises, finally cracked. Her face paled as she stared at the officer, the handcuffs glinting under the harsh fluorescent lights.

"This is absurd," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "My father died of heart failure nine years ago."

The lead officer’s expression remained impassive. "We have evidence suggesting otherwise, Ms. Ashworth. Please turn around and place your hands behind your back."

Christina stepped forward despite her injuries. "Officer, there’s been a mistake. We’ve just uncovered a security breach that threatens national—"

"Stand back, ma’am," another officer warned, moving to block Christina.

Isabella’s security team looked to her for direction, hands hovering near their weapons. She gave a subtle shake of her head. "Stand down," she ordered. "Release Mr. Marcus."

The guards hesitated, looking between Isabella and the bloodied Marcus.

"That’s an order," Isabella said firmly. "Release him."

As the security team reluctantly complied, Marcus straightened his posture despite his injuries. A slow, triumphant smile spread across his face as he wiped blood from his chin.

Liam moved to block Marcus’s path. "You’re not going anywhere."

Before Marcus could respond, one of the police officers stepped between them. "He’s with us," the officer stated firmly. "Mr. Marcus is a key witness in this investigation."

Liam’s eyes narrowed as he processed this information. ’Of course,’ he thought. ’Marcus isn’t just a corporate spy—he’s been working with law enforcement. Or at least, pretending to.’

Isabella turned to face the lead officer, her back straight and shoulders squared. "I’ll cooperate fully, but I want my legal team notified immediately."

The officer nodded, reciting her rights as he secured the handcuffs around her wrists. The metal clicked into place with a sound that seemed to echo in the silent corridor.

Liam watched the scene unfold with calculating eyes, his mind racing through possibilities. The synchronicity was too perfect—Marcus’s exposure and Isabella’s arrest happening simultaneously. This wasn’t coincidence. It was orchestration.

As the officers began leading Isabella toward the elevator, she caught Liam’s gaze. Her expression conveyed a clear message: This isn’t over.

"Christina," Isabella called over her shoulder, "Protocol Lazarus. Now."

Christina nodded once, understanding the instruction. Protocol Lazarus—the contingency plan Isabella had created for worst-case scenarios, one that Christina had prayed they’d never need to activate.

Marcus moved to follow the officers, giving Liam a smug glance as he passed. The realization struck Liam with brutal clarity—the video footage Seraphina had shown him of Jonathan Ashworth’s death had been weaponized. Someone had taken that security footage and transformed it from self-defense into something more sinister.

As the elevator doors closed on Isabella, Marcus, and the officers, Christina sagged against the wall, her injuries finally overwhelming her. Liam moved quickly to support her.

"We need to get you to a doctor," he said.

"No time," Christina replied through gritted teeth. "The trap worked too well. They must have been monitoring us, waiting for the right moment to strike."

"The murder of her father?" Liam questioned, helping her toward the stairs. His stomach churned with the knowledge he’d been keeping secret. ’I should have warned her,’ he thought. ’I knew about the footage, and I said nothing.’

"Isabella’s father was Jonathan Ashworth, not Charles," Christina corrected, wincing with each step. "They’re using an alias. The media always called him Charles, but his legal name was Jonathan."

"I know more than you think," Liam said quietly. "About what happened in his study that night."

Christina’s head snapped up, her eyes widening despite the pain. "How could you possibly—"

"Seraphina," he said simply. "She showed me the security footage. Jonathan Ashworth attacked Isabella. She defended herself with a letter opener."

Christina’s breath caught. "That footage was supposed to be destroyed. Isabella told me she’d taken care of it years ago."

"Well, someone preserved a copy. And now they’re using it."

They reached the executive floor, where chaos had already erupted. News of Isabella’s arrest had spread rapidly, leaving the leadership team in disarray. As Christina and Liam entered the main conference room, the executives fell silent, all eyes turning to them.

"What’s happening?" demanded Jeremy, the CFO. Unlike the others, his face showed more calculation than shock. "The police are saying Isabella murdered her father?"

’He knows,’ Liam realized, watching Jeremy’s measured reaction. ’He already knew about Jonathan Ashworth’s death.’

"It’s a setup," Christina stated, her voice stronger than she felt. "Someone wants Isabella out of the way, and they’ve manufactured this to do it."

"The timing is too convenient," Liam added. "Isabella just uncovered a security breach, and suddenly she’s being arrested for a nine-year-old death? They’re connected."

Jeremy’s eyes met Liam’s briefly before looking away. "We need to contact legal immediately," he said. "And prepare a statement for the press."

The room erupted in overlapping voices, questions and theories flying. Christina moved to Isabella’s private terminal and began typing rapidly, her fingers leaving smears of blood on the keyboard.

"What are you doing?" Liam asked quietly.

"Protocol Lazarus," she replied. "Securing our investigation data and initiating a lockdown of all Isabella’s files. If they’re coming for her, they’ll come for the evidence too."

On the screen, a progress bar indicated the transfer of encrypted data to an offline server. As the executives continued their heated debate, Christina’s phone buzzed with an incoming message. She checked it, her expression growing grim.

"They’re taking her to Central Precinct," she told Liam. "We need to move quickly."

Liam nodded. "I’ll handle things here. You need medical attention."

"I’m fine," she insisted.

"You’re not," he countered firmly. "You can barely stand. I need you at your best if we’re going to help Isabella."

After a moment of resistance, Christina relented. "There’s a private medical facility in the building. Get me there, then go to the precinct. Isabella will need eyes on the inside."

As they moved toward the door, Liam noticed Jeremy making a discreet phone call, his back turned to the room. ’Another player in this game,’ Liam thought. ’But whose side is he on?’

Twenty minutes later, Christina lay on an examination table as a doctor assessed her injuries. Two bruised ribs, a mild concussion, facial contusions, and various lacerations—painful, but not life-threatening. As the doctor prepared to wrap her ribs, Christina’s phone buzzed again.

It was a message from Liam: At precinct. Something’s wrong. Marcus has disappeared. Isabella’s being processed. No record of arrest in system.

Christina’s blood ran cold. If there was no official record, this wasn’t a legitimate arrest. It was an abduction.

At the Central Precinct, Isabella sat in an interrogation room, her hands cuffed to the table. The room was standard—sterile, windowless, with a large mirror that obviously concealed an observation room. She kept her expression neutral, though her mind was racing.

’They found the footage,’ she thought. ’After all these years, someone preserved the evidence I thought was destroyed.’ Her thoughts drifted to the silver letter opener in her kitchen—the one memento she’d kept from that night, both as a reminder and a warning to herself.

The door opened, and a detective entered, holding a thin file. "Ms. Ashworth, I’m Detective Reeves. Do you know why you’re here?"

"Apparently, I murdered my father," Isabella replied evenly. "A rather creative accusation, considering his death was ruled natural causes by the medical examiner."

’Self-defense isn’t murder,’ she thought. ’But they’ll never see it that way now, not after all this time, not after I cleaned the scene and buried the truth.’

Reeves opened the file. "New evidence has come to light." He slid a photograph across the table—a pill bottle. "This was found in your father’s home after his death. Digoxin. Prescribed to you."

Isabella stared at the image, her face betraying nothing. "I’ve never taken digoxin."

’This is fabricated evidence,’ she realized. ’They’re not just exposing what happened—they’re creating a new narrative altogether.’

"Yet this prescription was filled in your name two weeks before your father’s death," Reeves continued. "And traces were found in his system during a recent reexamination of tissue samples."

Isabella’s mind worked furiously. The prescription was a forgery—it had to be. But the drug in her father’s system? That was another matter entirely.

"I want my lawyer," she said finally.

"Of course," Reeves agreed, gathering the file. "But you should know—we have a witness who saw you administering medication to your father the night before he died."

As the detective left, Isabella closed her eyes briefly. This was no random attack. Someone had been planning this for years, laying groundwork, falsifying evidence, preparing to strike when she was most vulnerable.

Outside the precinct, Liam paced on the sidewalk, his phone pressed to his ear. "Pick up, pick up," he muttered. Finally, the line connected.

"Seraphina," he said without preamble. "Isabella’s been arrested. It’s a setup."

’Did you orchestrate this?’ he wanted to ask. ’Was showing me that footage part of a larger plan?’

There was a pause before Seraphina’s measured voice came through. "I know. It’s all over the news already."

"This isn’t a legitimate arrest," Liam continued urgently. "Something’s wrong. The officers who took her—I can’t find them in the system. And Marcus has disappeared."

"Marcus?" Seraphina’s voice sharpened. "The security chief?"

"He’s involved. Christina caught him leaking information about the Singapore acquisition. When she confronted him, he attacked her. Now he’s apparently working with the police."

"Is she alright?"

"Bruised and battered, but she’ll live." Liam lowered his voice. "Seraphina, I think this goes deeper than corporate espionage. The timing, the manufactured evidence against Isabella... it’s too sophisticated."

’And it involves the footage you showed me,’ he added silently.

"You think someone’s been planning this for years," Seraphina concluded.

"Yes. And they’re making their move now because Isabella was getting too close to something." Liam watched as a black SUV with tinted windows pulled up to the precinct’s side entrance. "I have to go. Something’s happening."

He ended the call and moved closer, staying in the shadows as the precinct’s side door opened. Two men in suits emerged, flanking Isabella as they led her toward the vehicle. Her face was taut with tension, her wrists still cuffed.

This wasn’t standard procedure. Prisoners weren’t transported in unmarked vehicles, especially not this quickly after processing. Liam reached for his phone, ready to call Christina, when he spotted a familiar figure already inside the SUV.

Marcus.

The pieces fell into place with sickening clarity. This wasn’t just an arrest—it was an extraction. Isabella was being taken, and Liam was watching it happen.

’I could have prevented this,’ he thought, guilt washing over him. ’I knew about the video, about her father’s death. I should have warned her.’

As the SUV pulled away from the curb, Liam made a split-second decision. He sprinted to his car, engine roaring to life as he prepared to follow.

His phone buzzed with a message from Christina: Video just leaked online. Security footage showing Isabella tampering with her father’s medication. It’s everywhere.

Liam’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. ’That’s not what happened,’ he thought. ’I saw the real footage. This is doctored evidence.’

The trap had been expertly laid, and they had all walked right into it.