He Swore He Hated Seafood, So Why Did His Lips Taste Like Oysters? - Chapter 44: Chapter 44
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"We're not actually dating. You don't have to pick me up from work every day."
One hand on the steering wheel, he said casually: "Grandpa video-calls to check."
He brought me beautiful flowers.
Took me to ridiculously expensive riverside restaurants.
Texted good morning, afternoon, and night every day.
When I asked why: "Grandpa's got time on his hands. He checks."
He quietly infiltrated my life in no time.
When I wanted to stop, he looked at me with wounded eyes.
"You think this is acting, but I've caught real feelings. What am I supposed to do?"
"How about we try actually dating? You can stop anytime if you don't like it."
He moved closer in my tiny living room as he spoke.
"Savannah, I'm decent-looking, pretty rich, and I don't have messy little protégés. Won't you give me a shot?"
"But I just got out of a relationship."
He smiled. "Is it illegal to find someone new after a breakup?"
He got closer, whispering in my ear.
"Just try it. If you don't like it, you can stop anytime."
That's how he seduced me.
Like a dream—I landed myself a billionaire boyfriend.
Agreeing to marry him felt like walking into a trap.
One weekend morning, sunlight streaming through the windows.
Liam walked around wearing just gray sweatpants, abs on full display.
He stared at me like I was some kind of player.
"So you're telling me you're just fooling around—never planned to marry me?"
I sat up, sipping the water he handed me.
"No, we've only been dating a month."
He looked at me steadily. "One month and you slept with me. Don't you need to take responsibility?"
Wait, wasn't he the one who seduced me last night?
"Savannah, I'm a traditional man. You can't just use me like this."
Use him? How?
That day he had me completely confused.
Every word was an accusation about playing with his feelings.
"So what do you want, Liam,?"
"Marriage certificate. I can't be your secret boyfriend—goes against my values."
Then he pulled out a stack of documents.
"Marry me. If you don't like it, we can divorce anytime. All this property goes to you."
I glanced at all those zeros.
Got a little excited.
But also remembered—when we started the mutual aid thing, he said I could stop anytime too.
Then convinced me to date him, and suddenly I couldn't stop—he wouldn't let me.
Like boiling the frog until it's done.
"Liam, you're not after my organs, are you? Gonna trick me to some Southeast Asian country after marriage and harvest my kidneys?"
He paused, exasperated. "Savannah, can't you see?"
"Maybe I just want to marry you because I like you?"
I asked timidly: "You really don't want my kidneys?"
He shut me up with a kiss.
"I want your heart instead."
I couldn't help trembling.
One hand on the steering wheel, he said casually: "Grandpa video-calls to check."
He brought me beautiful flowers.
Took me to ridiculously expensive riverside restaurants.
Texted good morning, afternoon, and night every day.
When I asked why: "Grandpa's got time on his hands. He checks."
He quietly infiltrated my life in no time.
When I wanted to stop, he looked at me with wounded eyes.
"You think this is acting, but I've caught real feelings. What am I supposed to do?"
"How about we try actually dating? You can stop anytime if you don't like it."
He moved closer in my tiny living room as he spoke.
"Savannah, I'm decent-looking, pretty rich, and I don't have messy little protégés. Won't you give me a shot?"
"But I just got out of a relationship."
He smiled. "Is it illegal to find someone new after a breakup?"
He got closer, whispering in my ear.
"Just try it. If you don't like it, you can stop anytime."
That's how he seduced me.
Like a dream—I landed myself a billionaire boyfriend.
Agreeing to marry him felt like walking into a trap.
One weekend morning, sunlight streaming through the windows.
Liam walked around wearing just gray sweatpants, abs on full display.
He stared at me like I was some kind of player.
"So you're telling me you're just fooling around—never planned to marry me?"
I sat up, sipping the water he handed me.
"No, we've only been dating a month."
He looked at me steadily. "One month and you slept with me. Don't you need to take responsibility?"
Wait, wasn't he the one who seduced me last night?
"Savannah, I'm a traditional man. You can't just use me like this."
Use him? How?
That day he had me completely confused.
Every word was an accusation about playing with his feelings.
"So what do you want, Liam,?"
"Marriage certificate. I can't be your secret boyfriend—goes against my values."
Then he pulled out a stack of documents.
"Marry me. If you don't like it, we can divorce anytime. All this property goes to you."
I glanced at all those zeros.
Got a little excited.
But also remembered—when we started the mutual aid thing, he said I could stop anytime too.
Then convinced me to date him, and suddenly I couldn't stop—he wouldn't let me.
Like boiling the frog until it's done.
"Liam, you're not after my organs, are you? Gonna trick me to some Southeast Asian country after marriage and harvest my kidneys?"
He paused, exasperated. "Savannah, can't you see?"
"Maybe I just want to marry you because I like you?"
I asked timidly: "You really don't want my kidneys?"
He shut me up with a kiss.
"I want your heart instead."
I couldn't help trembling.
End of He Swore He Hated Seafood, So Why Did His Lips Taste Like Oysters? Chapter 44. Continue reading Chapter 45 or return to He Swore He Hated Seafood, So Why Did His Lips Taste Like Oysters? book page.