Taming My Sugar Mommy-Chapter 27: New location

London felt different after Florida. Maybe it was the cold, sharper against her skin after Miami's heat. Or maybe it was the way things had shifted—subtle but undeniable.

A week had passed since the kidnapping. Since Liam had been taken, threatening, and dumped back like some kind of message. Isabella had kept her investigation quiet, sending Marcus to chase down leads while she and Christina handled the immediate fallout. But no real answers had come. No demands. No threats. Just silence.

And silence was worse.

She didn't like how exposed her world had become. How much Liam had seen—how much he had been exposed to. Keeping him in her house had made sense before, when he was just an employee, an outsider. But now? Now he was a target. And that changed everything.

'Moving him isn't personal,' she thought, fingers tapping absently against her desk. 'It's logical. Strategic. For his safety.' And yours, a voice in her head added, though she pushed that thought away.

Her gaze flicked toward the security monitors. One of the screens showed Liam in the library, lost in thought as he stared out the window. He'd been doing that more since Florida—going quiet, distant. She couldn't blame him.

Christina appeared in her doorway, silent but present. Always present since Florida.

"The Carlton House is ready," Christina said simply. She knew better than to ask questions.

Isabella nodded. "Tell Liam to pack what he needs. Don't tell him where he's going." She paused. "And Christina? Stay close to him."

A slight nod, then she was gone.

'Decision made,' Isabella thought, ignoring the heaviness in her chest. 'Now for the hard part.'

The rain started just as they pulled up to the estate, Christina's car following close behind. A slow drizzle at first, then heavier, streaking the black Range Rover's windows with silver. Liam sat in the passenger seat, his jaw tight, gaze fixed ahead. He hadn't said much since Christina had told him to pack, and Isabella hadn't offered an explanation. Not yet.

She killed the engine, rain drumming against the roof. For a moment, neither of them moved.

"Is this about what happened in Florida?" Liam finally asked, his voice carefully neutral.

'He's learning,' she thought. 'Starting to understand how this world works.'

"Get out of the car, Liam."

He hesitated only briefly before complying. The night air was cold, damp with the smell of rain-soaked pavement. Ahead of them, the house loomed in the dark, sleek and modern, tucked away in the heart of her private estate. Christina's car lights cut off behind them, her silhouette visible in the rain.

"This yours?" he asked, following her up the steps. Water dripped from his hair, sliding down his neck.

"One of them." She unlocked the door, stepping into warmth and silence. Dark wood floors, deep leather sofas, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the empty garden. A house meant to be lived in—but never really lived in. Until now.

She heard Christina doing a final check of the grounds, her footsteps fading into the rain.

Liam stood just inside the doorway, uncertain. "What exactly is this?"

Isabella turned, meeting his gaze. "You're staying here from now on."

His expression shifted—not anger, but something closer to resignation mixed with curiosity. "Because of the kidnapping?"

"Yes." She slipped off her coat, hanging it carefully. "It's safer here than at the main house."

He nodded slowly, processing. This was the side of him she'd hired—the one who could adapt, who understood necessity.

"How long?" he asked quietly.

She met his gaze. "Indefinitely."

He absorbed this, then asked, "And Christina?"

"She'll stay here too." 'To protect you,' Isabella thought, 'whether you understand the danger or not.'

"Understood." Though she could see questions in his eyes, he held them back.

Lightning flashed outside, casting harsh shadows across his face. Through the windows, she could see Christina's figure moving past, checking the perimeter one last time.

"This isn't a punishment," she said, reaching for the door. "This is protection."

He nodded once. "Thank you."

The simple acknowledgment caught her off guard. 'He really is learning,' she thought.

"Get some rest," she said, already stepping back into the rain. "You'll need it."

Christina materialized from the darkness, a silent guardian. Always watching, always ready.

Isabella didn't look back as she walked to her car. Because the truth was, this wasn't just about protecting Liam. This was about protecting everything she'd built. And he was now part of that, whether he fully understood it or not.

The rain washed away her footprints as she left, like she'd never been there at all. But she had been. And now everything was different.

Again.

Liam watched the tail lights of Isabella's car disappear into the rain before turning to find Christina leaning against the doorframe, that familiar half-smirk on her face.

"Well then," she said, her London accent thick with amusement, "reckon we're housemates now."

He couldn't help but chuckle. "That's what you got from all this?"

"Better than brooding about it, innit?" She pushed off the wall, shrugging off her wet jacket. "Come on, I'll give you the tour. Kitchen's got that fancy coffee machine you like."

"The one from Milan?"

"Isabella's orders." Christina's eyes sparkled. "Though I suspect that's more about keeping you from whinging about proper espresso than actual generosity."

"Oi!" He followed her down the hallway, their footsteps echoing on the hardwood. "I don't whinge. I have standards."

"Right, because heaven forbid you drink coffee like us common folk." She threw him a look over her shoulder. "You know, for someone who grew up in Essex, you're proper posh about the strangest things."

"Says the woman who won't shut up about proper tea brewing temperatures."

"That's different and you know it." She led him into a spacious kitchen, all gleaming steel and dark granite. "Speaking of which..."

"She moved through the kitchen with practiced ease, filling the electric kettle. Liam leaned against the counter, watching her move like she'd done this a hundred times before."

"You knew about this, didn't you?" he asked finally. "The move."

Christina paused, measuring loose tea into a strainer. "Found out this morning."

"And?"

"And what?" The kettle clicked off. She poured with practiced precision. "It's the right call."

"Because of Florida?"

"Because someone's playing a game, love." She slid a mug toward him. "And you've just become a very valuable piece."

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Liam wrapped his hands around the warm ceramic, breathing in the familiar Earl Grey. "You make it sound so flattering."

"Oh yes, being important enough to kidnap. Proper romantic, that." But her tone softened. "Could've been worse, you know."

"Yeah." He took a sip, letting the warmth chase away some of the evening's chill. "Could've been stuck with Marcus as a housemate instead."

That earned him a genuine laugh. "God, can you imagine? Man probably alphabetizes his socks."

"Color-codes his protein shakes."

"Has a spreadsheet for his spreadsheets."

They grinned at each other over their mugs, the familiar banter easing some of the tension from the night. But Christina's eyes were sharp, watchful.

"You'll be safe here," she said quietly. "I promise."

Liam nodded, understanding what she wasn't saying. After Florida, after finding him drugged and abandoned, she'd taken it personally. He'd seen it in the intensity of their training sessions, in the way she watched the shadows.

"I know." He smiled slightly. "Though I might not be after a few weeks of your cooking."

"Cheeky bastard." She flicked tea at him. "Just for that, I'm making bangers and mash tomorrow."

"Your bangers and mash gave half the security team food poisoning that one time!"

"Details." She waved dismissively. "Besides, built up your immunity, didn't it?"

She leaned against the counter, watching him over her mug. "By the way, I heard about what went down in Florida. You against Roberts and his mates—heard you gave them a proper beating."

Liam smirked, sipping his tea. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." She tilted her head, eyes glinting. "Even Marcus sounded impressed. And that man rates no one."

Liam chuckled. "Must've been a slow news day."

"Or maybe you're have given them a right kicking," she teased. "Shame I wasn't there to see it. Would've been a good laugh."

He rolled his eyes. "Oh, sure. I'll make sure next time someone tries to jump me, you get front-row seats."

"That's all I ask." Christina stretched, then added casually, "Oh, and Valentine's is in two days, by the way."

Liam barely looked up. "And?"

She smirked. "Nothing. Just curious if you've got plans."

"Right. Because I've had loads of time to think about that." His tone was dry.

Christina chuckled, grabbing a towel. "Fair point. Just thought I'd mention it." She shot him a knowing look before heading toward the hallway. "Come on, let's finish the tour."

The rain drummed against the windows, but inside, the kitchen was warm with lamplight and familiar jokes. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad, Liam thought. At least he wasn't alone.

"Right then," Christina said, stretching. "Time to show you the rest of your gilded cage. Including the gym, because those love handles aren't going to train themselves away."

"Says the woman who ate an entire Victoria sponge last weekend."

"That was for technical research purposes."

"Is that what we're calling it now?"

Their laughter echoed down the hallway as they moved deeper into the house, the sound almost—but not quite—masking the soft beep of security systems and the whisper of rain against bulletproof glass.

Because some cages, no matter how gilded, were still cages.

But at least this one came with decent tea.