Taming My Sugar Mommy-Chapter 28: Valentine’s Day chaos

The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime.

Isabella stepped out, her heels clicking against the polished floor, but today something was different. Her usually pristine office had transformed overnight into a Valentine's Day explosion—roses spilled from crystal vases, silk ribbons draped over desks, and elaborate chocolate arrangements created miniature towers throughout the space. The sight of it all made her jaw clench.

Her sharp gaze cut through the chaos, landing on Sarah, who was practically drowning behind an enormous bouquet while trying to manage her tablet.

"The gifts started arriving at dawn," Sarah explained, adjusting the flowers in her arms. "Cartier, Bulgari, that real estate mogul from New York—" She glanced down at her tablet, scrolling. "Among others. I've arranged them all in your office."

Isabella barely nodded, her attention already drawn past Sarah.

To Liam.

And the women clustered around his desk.

Three of them from Marketing, practically radiating enthusiasm. One perched on the edge of his desk, another twirling a red ribbon between her fingers. Their laughter floated through the air, light and flirtatious.

Liam sat there, outwardly composed, but she caught the slight tension in his shoulders. His normally pristine desk had disappeared under heart-shaped boxes and gift bags. A single red rose sat apart from the others, commanding attention.

Something hot and sharp twisted in her chest.

"Shouldn't you all be working?"

Her words sliced through the air. The three women jumped, turning to find Isabella watching them with an arctic stare. Their laughter died instantly.

"O-of course, Miss Ashworth," one stammered before practically fleeing, the others quick to follow.

"Sarah."

Sarah, reading the atmosphere perfectly, straightened. "I'll check in with Finance." She disappeared down the hall.

Isabella's gaze locked onto Liam.

"My office. Now."

Inside, she moved behind her desk, shrugging off her coat as Liam shut the door. The heavy perfume of roses filled the air, almost suffocating.

"What exactly was that?" she asked, voice deceptively calm but razor-sharp.

Liam stood at ease, unfazed. "Marketing decided I needed a shrine, apparently."

She arched an eyebrow. "And you allowed it?"

His mouth twitched slightly. "Would you rather I started throwing things?"

"I'd rather you maintained your focus."

"My focus hasn't wavered."

Her eyes drifted toward the glass wall, where his desk remained visible—still buried under gifts, with several women stealing glances in his direction.

"Then get rid of them."

"Consider it done."

He turned to leave but paused at the door. His voice dropped lower, carrying something else beneath it.

"Happy Valentine's, my lady."

The door clicked shut before she could respond.

Isabella stood motionless for a moment, staring at the space he'd occupied. His words—"Happy Valentine's, my lady"—lingered in the air like the cloying scent of roses around her. She turned to her window, watching the city sprawl beneath her, trying to focus on anything but the hollow feeling in her chest.

The rest of the day crawled by in a haze of meetings and phone calls. She caught glimpses of Liam through her glass walls—true to his word, the gifts had vanished from his desk, and the women from Marketing kept their distance. But something had shifted. Each time she saw him bent over his work, completely professional and focused, she felt an irrational urge to call him back into her office. To say... what? She didn't know.

By late afternoon, her irritation had settled into something deeper, more unsettling. When Sarah appeared with another delivery—this time from a Swiss watch company—Isabella waved it away without even looking at the card.

"I'm done for the day," she announced, gathering her things. She ignored Sarah's surprised look; it was barely 5 PM, hours earlier than her usual departure time.

She texted Marcus to bring the car around, needing to escape the suffocating atmosphere of rose petals and meaningful glances. As she walked past Liam's desk, she felt his eyes on her but didn't turn. Couldn't turn. Not when she felt this off-balance.

Later, in her car, the city passed by in streaks of gold and red. Marcus, ever observant, lowered the privacy partition slightly.

"Everything alright, my lady?"

Isabella exhaled, gaze fixed on the passing scenery. "Why wouldn't it be?"

"No reason," Marcus mused, unconvinced. After a pause, he added casually, "He handled it well, you know. Could've basked in all that attention, but he didn't."

She remained silent.

Marcus hummed knowingly. "Maybe that's what's got you in a mood."

Her eyes met his in the rearview mirror, sharp with warning.

Unfazed, Marcus smirked. "Tell me, my lady... are you getting him something?"

She scoffed. "For what?"

"For Valentine's."

The silence stretched between them.

Finally—"Is that what you're suggesting?" she asked, her tone unreadable.

Marcus chuckled. "Just a thought."

She turned back to the window, but this time, there was a flicker of something in her expression.

Later that night, Isabella lay in her bed, the day's events playing on repeat in her mind. The image of those women hovering around Liam's desk kept surfacing, each replay stoking an unfamiliar burn in her chest.

Her gaze drifted to her dresser where unopened gifts from various moguls and investors sat—a box of imported chocolates, an elegant wristwatch. Gifts she couldn't publicly refuse without causing ripples in her carefully maintained business relationships.

Before she could rationalize herself out of it, she reached for pen and paper, her usually precise handwriting betraying a slight tremor:

*Liam,*

*This isn't easy for me. You know I don't do Valentine's Day or any of this sentimental nonsense. But today, seeing those women around your desk...*

She paused, then forced herself to continue:

*I hate how it made me feel. I hate that I care. But I do.*

*You've gotten under my skin in ways I never expected. Sometimes I look at you and forget how to breathe. You challenge me, frustrate me, make me question everything I thought I knew about myself. And somehow, you've made my life better for it.*

*The thought of you with anyone else... it burns, Liam. It burns in ways I didn't know I could feel.*

*'I won't share you'. I can't. You're mine. Only mine.*

*And if you need me to say it plainly - yes, I have feelings for you. Deep ones. Ones that terrify me but I can't ignore anymore.*

*-Isabella*

Heart racing, she summoned Marcus, instructing him to deliver a carefully selected package to Liam's home—the note tucked inside with explicit instructions for it to be discovered in the morning.

Finally settling between smooth cotton sheets, Isabella felt an unfamiliar anxiety flutter in her chest. This impulsive action was unlike her usually calculated behavior. Yet she couldn't erase the image of Liam surrounded by those fawning women from Marketing. The package—containing a premium Swiss watch and artisanal chocolates, along with her note—would serve as a clear reminder of where his loyalties should lie.

As she drifted toward sleep, a small smile played at her lips. She'd made her claim. Now she just had to wait for morning.

The next morning brought a strange silence to the office. Isabella maintained her usual composure, signing documents and attending video calls, but her attention kept drifting through the glass walls of her office. Something was different about Liam today—something she couldn't quite place.

He moved through his tasks with his typical efficiency, but there was an ease to his movements that hadn't been there before. A slight curve to his lips that appeared without provocation. Several times she caught him touching his wrist absently, and a flutter of satisfaction bloomed in her chest as she glimpsed the gold watch—her watch—gleaming against his skin.

So he had received her message after all.

The day passed in a blur of meetings and decisions, the usual rhythms of power and commerce, but beneath it all ran an undercurrent of... anticipation? Awareness? She couldn't name it, but it thrummed through her veins like electricity.

When evening came, the drive home followed its usual pattern—the familiar streets, the comfortable silence, the soft purr of the engine. As they pulled up to Liam's house, Christina was already walking to the front gate, ready to open the door for him.

Liam didn't get out immediately. He lingered, his hand on the door handle, and then turned just enough that she could see his profile in the dim light.

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"Happy Valentine's Day, Lady Isabella," he said, his voice low and warm. "Thank you. For everything."

Before she could find her voice, he was gone, leaving her alone with a heart that wouldn't quite settle. She watched him disappear inside, her fingers absently touching her own wrist where his watch had been.

'Damn him. Damn him for making her feel like this, for making her care about silly things like Valentine's Day and watches and the way he smiled when he thought no one was looking.'

"Home, Marcus," she managed, and if her voice wasn't quite as steady as usual, well—some things were better left unsaid.