Taming My Sugar Mommy-Chapter 23: Not the real fight

The corridors of the hotel had an eerie stillness at this hour, the usual hum of guests and staff replaced by the muted hush of proper luxury. The thick carpet absorbed their footsteps as Isabella led the way, her victory over Roberts still fresh in her mind.

Liam walked slightly behind, his senses prickling. A nagging unease settled in his gut, a feeling that something was off. The lift ride had been silent, save for Isabella's occasional glances in his direction. If she'd noticed anything amiss, she didn't show it.

They rounded a corner toward a side hallway leading to the executive suites. It was the sort of place designed for privacy—away from the main guest areas, with soft lighting and thick walls.

'Empty. Too bloody empty.'

Liam had spent enough time in dodgy places to know when he was being led somewhere on purpose. The heavy footsteps behind them confirmed his suspicions.

"Ma'am," he murmured, low enough that only she could hear.

She turned, frowning.

Then Roberts and his two mates stepped out from the shadows, blocking the hallway.

Liam sighed, already knowing where this was headed.

Roberts had ditched the smugness he carried in the bar, his face twisted in something uglier now. His two mates—both taller, broader—flanked him like muscle with a proper grudge.

"This isn't necessary," Isabella said, her voice calm but edged with steel. "You lost. Move on."

Liam tilted his head, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "My lady," he said smoothly, "would you prefer to handle this, or shall I?"

Isabella's eyes widened in shock. She'd known him for his hard graft and determination, but fighting wasn't his arena—not that she knew him that well. "You... you want to fight them?" she stammered, her composure faltering for a moment.

"Just a suggestion," Liam replied, a smirk playing on his lips. "But I'm more than happy to take the lead."

Isabella leaned against the wall, her posture casual but her eyes razor-sharp. "By all means."

The moment was all the invitation Roberts needed. He lunged forward, throwing a wild punch fueled by rage.

Liam shifted, letting the blow slide past him, his movement proper economical and precise. But Roberts' mates were already moving—one adopting a trained boxer's stance, the other stockier bloke charging like a bull.

This wasn't going to be a quick fight.

The boxer struck first, a jab that would have dropped most men. Liam caught the punch on his forearm, using the momentum to twist the man's arm. But the boxer was good—he rolled with the movement, preventing a full joint lock. Meanwhile, the stockier man circled, looking for an opening.

"You should've stayed in your bloody lane," Roberts spat, his voice dripping with venom. "But you just had to stand there, smirking like a proper git. Had to be part of something that weren't yours."

Liam exhaled, stretching his fingers. "Let me guess, mate—this is the part where you try sorting your ego with your fists?"

Roberts' friend on the left swung first, fast but predictable. Liam shifted just enough to avoid the punch, letting it pass inches from his jaw.

He grabbed the man's wrist, twisting hard. A sharp grunt filled the space before Liam drove his elbow into the guy's ribs. The man doubled over with a choked wheeze.

The boxer recovered quickly, aiming a hook at Liam's jaw. Liam caught his arm mid-swing, yanked him forward, and sent his knee into the man's stomach. The impact echoed in the hallway, a visceral reminder of the stakes.

A curse spat from Roberts' lips as he lunged. This one was wilder—anger over technique. Liam sidestepped, catching him by the collar and using his own momentum to slam him against the wall. The sound of bone cracking against plaster filled the hall.

Roberts howled, his hand going limp.

But before Liam could catch his breath, a new figure burst into the hallway—a man charging like a bull, knife glinting menacingly in his hand. The sudden appearance sent a jolt of adrenaline through Liam.

The newcomer barreled forward, eyes locked on Liam, intent on ending the fight with a single, brutal strike. Liam barely had time to react. He sidestepped, feeling the rush of air as the blade sliced past him, narrowly missing his side.

With a swift pivot, Liam turned to face the attacker, adrenaline sharpening his focus. The man, fueled by rage and desperation, lunged again, the knife aimed straight for Liam's torso.

Liam ducked low, grabbing the man's wrist and twisting it, forcing the knife away from him. The attacker stumbled, but with a fierce growl, he regained his footing and charged once more, this time aiming for Liam's legs.

Liam leaped aside, using the momentum to deliver a powerful kick to the man's side, sending him crashing into the wall. The knife clattered to the floor, and for a moment, the hallway was filled with the sound of heavy breathing and the distant echo of chaos.

Liam stood ready, his heart racing, knowing this fight was far from over. The man, now enraged and disarmed, scrambled to his feet, eyes wild with fury.

"Oi, Get up!" Roberts shouted, his voice strained but commanding, urging his friend to continue the fight.

The stocky friend, still recovering from Liam's earlier blows, pushed himself off the ground, determination etched on his face.

Liam assessed the situation, realizing he was now outnumbered again. He had to act quickly.

The bull-like attacker charged once more, but this time, Liam anticipated the move. He sidestepped and used the man's momentum against him, grabbing him by the collar and throwing him into the wall again. The impact echoed, and the man crumpled to the floor, dazed.

Roberts, seeing his friend fall, lunged forward, desperation fueling his attack. Liam turned just in time to catch Roberts' punch, redirecting the force and using it to propel him past.

"Isabella, get back!" Liam shouted, his focus unwavering as he faced the remaining threats.

The stocky friend, now enraged, picked up the knife from the floor, brandishing it with a wild look in his eyes.

"Let's see how you handle this!" he yelled, lunging at Liam with the blade aimed for his chest.

Liam's instincts kicked in. He ducked low again, narrowly avoiding the slash, and countered with a swift kick to the man's knee, sending him crashing down. The knife clattered away, and Liam quickly turned to face Roberts, who was now scrambling to regain his footing.

"Enough!" Liam declared, his voice steady and commanding. "This ends now."

Roberts, panting and bloodied, looked at Liam with a mix of fear and defiance. "You think you can just scarper from this?"

Liam stepped closer, his presence imposing. "You're beat, mate. Time to do one."

The hallway was silent except for the heavy breathing of the defeated men. Liam stood tall, ready for any further aggression, but the fight had drained the will from Roberts and his friends.

With a final glare, Roberts turned and helped his friends to their feet, retreating down the hallway, leaving Liam and Isabella standing amidst the remnants of chaos.

Liam exhaled, the adrenaline slowly fading, replaced by a sense of relief. "Are you okay?" he asked Isabella, who had watched the entire confrontation with a mix of concern and admiration.

She nodded, her expression softening. "I'm fine. You handled that well."

Liam offered a small smile, but the nagging feeling in his gut remained. The night wasn't over yet, and he couldn't shake the sense that more trouble was lurking just around the corner.

As they began to walk away, Isabella's voice broke the silence. "I didn't know you could fight like that. I mean, I know you're capable, but... that was impressive."

Liam shrugged, trying to downplay it. "Just a few tricks I picked up along the way. You learn to adapt in rough situations."

Isabella looked at him, her brow furrowed. "But you suggested handling it. You were ready to fight for me."

"Of course," Liam replied, his tone serious. "I wouldn't let them hurt you. You're important to me ."

Her cheeks flushed slightly at his words, and she looked away, processing the weight of his statement. "I appreciate that, but I'm not used to relying on anyone for protection. I've always handled things myself."

"I get that," Liam said, his voice softening. "But sometimes, it's okay to let someone else take the lead. You don't have to carry everything alone."

Isabella paused, considering his words. "I know. It's just... I've always been the one to fight my own battles. I'm not sure how to let someone else in."

Liam stepped closer, his gaze steady. "You don't have to change who you are. Just know that I'm here when you need me. You don't have to face everything alone."

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Before she could respond, a flicker of movement caught Liam's eye. He turned sharply, scanning the hallway. The nagging feeling in his gut intensified.

"Liam?" Isabella asked, her voice laced with concern.

"Stay close," he instructed, his instincts on high alert.

They moved cautiously, Liam leading the way, his senses heightened. The adrenaline from the fight still coursed through his veins, sharpening his focus.