Liam’s brain short-circuited for a second.
利亚姆的脑子短路了一秒。

No way.  没门。

This wasn’t some middle-aged oil tycoon or a silver-haired CEO with a taste for young playthings. This was—what, a fucking kid? A rich brat barely older than him, if that. The kind of person who probably had their first car handed to them on a silver platter while Liam was still scraping together change for a shitty bus pass.
这可不是什么中年石油大亨，也不是一位喜欢年轻玩物的白发 CEO。这——他妈的，是个小孩？一个比他大不了多少的富家子弟，如果那也算的话。那种人很可能在银盘上拿到他们的第一辆车，而李昂还在为一张破烂公交卡凑零钱。

For a split second, his mask slipped—his lips twitched, his eyes narrowed just slightly in disbelief. This was the person driving a Maybach? This was the golden ticket he was supposed to suck up to?
一刹那间，他的面具滑落——嘴唇抽动了一下，眼睛因难以置信而微微眯起。开迈巴赫的人竟然是他？他本该巴结的对象竟然是他？

But then—fuck it. Money was money.
但然后—他妈的。钱就是钱。

He forced his expression back into something sickeningly sweet, leaning in just a little too close to the window. His voice dripped with fake warmth, smooth as honey.
他强迫自己的表情回到了某种令人作呕的甜蜜，稍微靠得太近窗户了。他的声音滴满了虚假的温暖，像蜂蜜一样光滑。

"Oh, wow—you look, uh... young for a car like this. Not that that's a bad thing! Just—impressive, you know? Real impressive."
“哦，哇——你看起来，呃……对于这么一辆车来说，年纪太小了。不是那有什么不好的！只是——令人印象深刻，你知道吗？真的令人印象深刻。”

Smooth, Liam. Real fucking smooth.

He cleared his throat, shifting his weight. "So, uh... need me to fill it up? Premium, right? Or—whatever else you want, really."
他清了清嗓子，挪了挪身子。“所以，呃……需要我加满吗？高级的，对吧？或者——随便你要什么，真的。”

He was already mentally calculating how much this kid must be worth. And how much of it he could get his hands on.
他已经在心里盘算这个孩子值多少钱了。以及他又能弄到多少钱。

He looked at his face with those big eyes.
他用那双大眼睛看着他脸。

okay 95 top up  okay 95 充值

Liam blinked, momentarily thrown off by how... simple the response was. No smug smirk, no condescending tone, just—okay. Like some fucking NPC in a video game.
莱姆眨了眨眼，对回答的简单感到一时措手不及。没有傲慢的微笑，没有居高临下的语气，只是——好的。就像视频游戏中的一些 NPC。

But then again, maybe that was better. Easier to manipulate.
但话又说回来，也许那样更好。更容易操控。

He flashed a grin, nodding way too eagerly. "You got it, boss. Premium 95, comin' right up."
他露出了一个灿烂的笑容，点头得过于急切。“知道了，老板。95 号高级汽油，马上就来。”

He practically sprinted to the pump, fumbling with the nozzle before slotting it into the tank. As the numbers on the display started climbing, his mind raced.
他几乎是冲刺着跑到加油泵前，手忙脚乱地摆弄着油枪，然后才把它插入油箱。随着显示屏上的数字开始攀升，他的思绪飞转。

How the hell was he supposed to play this? This wasn’t some sugar daddy with obvious kinks to exploit—this was a kid who looked like he’d never had to think about money in his life. Maybe he was naive. Maybe he was just... nice. Either way, Liam needed an angle.
他怎么可能玩得来这个？这可不是个有明显的癖好可以加以利用的“金主”——这只是一个看起来一辈子都没想过钱是什么的孩子。也许他太天真了。也许他只是……很好。不管是哪种情况，利亚姆都需要一个切入点。

He leaned against the car, trying to look casual. His voice dropped into something smoother, more practiced. "You, uh... pass through here often? 'Cause I gotta say, we don’t usually get cars like this rolling up. Or drivers like you." A pause, then a smirk. "Not that I’m complaining."
他靠着车，试图看起来很随意。他的声音变得平滑、更熟练。“你，呃……经常从这里经过吗？因为我要说，我们通常不会遇到像这样的车。或者像你这样的司机。”停顿了一下，然后露出一丝微笑。“也不是我在抱怨。”

Too much? Too little? Fuck it—he’d find out soon enough.
太多？太少？去他的——他很快就会知道了。

The pump clicked off. He pulled the nozzle out, making a show of wiping his hands on his pants before sauntering back to the window. "That’ll be—" He glanced at the total, then back at Ilie, eyes glinting. "—worth every penny, I promise."
泵关掉了。他拔出喷嘴，装作在裤子上擦手，然后慢悠悠地走回窗户。“那将是——”他瞥了一眼总价，然后又看向 Ilie，眼睛闪着光。“——每一分钱都值，我保证。”

He was already mentally drafting the script: You ever need someone to... keep you company on these long drives? I’m real good at keeping people entertained.
他已经在心里起草剧本了：你什么时候需要有人……陪你在这些长途驾驶中？我擅长逗人开心。

But for now, he just waited, watching for any flicker of interest in those big, stupidly innocent eyes.
但现在，他只是等待着，观察着那双大眼睛里是否有任何兴趣的火花。

They spent two months, and Liam did, becoming his sugar baby, and he got used to spending money like water in ilie's house, but ilie's temper was a little spoiled.
他们花了两个月，李昂成为了他的糖宝宝，他习惯了在李依的家花钱如流水，但李依的脾气有点娇纵。

Two months in, and Liam had settled into the role like a second skin.
两个月后，李昂已经像第二层皮肤一样适应了这个角色。

Ilie’s penthouse was a fucking dream—marble floors, a view that stretched for miles, a bed so soft he could drown in it. And the money? Christ, the money. He’d gone from counting pennies to swiping black cards without a second thought. Designer clothes, expensive liquor, jewelry that probably cost more than his parents made in a year. He wore it all like armor, like proof he’d won.
李依的顶层公寓是一个梦——大理石地板，视野延伸数英里，一张如此柔软的床，他可以沉溺其中。至于钱？天啊，钱。他从数硬币变成了刷黑卡，毫不犹豫。名牌衣服，昂贵的酒，珠宝可能比他父母一年赚的还多。他穿着它们像盔甲一样，像证明他赢了。

But then there was Ilie.

Sweet, soft-faced Ilie, who pouted when Liam didn’t answer texts fast enough, who sulked if dinner wasn’t exactly what they wanted, who threw little tantrums over shit Liam couldn’t even predict. Like a fucking child with a trust fund and zero impulse control.

And Liam? He played the part. Of course he did. He’d lick their shoes if it meant keeping the cash flowing. But goddamn*, it was exhausting.*

Tonight’s meltdown was over—what else?—the wrong fucking wine.

Liam bit the inside of his cheek so hard he tasted blood. Then, with a smile so forced it hurt: "My bad, baby. Let me fix that for you."

He snatched the glass, stormed to the kitchen, and poured the most expensive fucking Cabernet he could find. His reflection in the stainless steel fridge glared back at him—pissed off, hollow-eyed, but still pretty. Still worth keeping around.

He took a deep breath, smoothed his expression, and sauntered back. "Here you go, princess. Only the best for you." He set the glass down, fingers lingering just a second too long on Ilie’s wrist. "Anything else I can do for you?"

The unspoken offer hung in the air. Because yeah, he’d debase himself if he had to. Again. And again. And again.

As long as the money kept coming.