When Contracts Turn to Forbidden Kisses Chapter 116

Ethan

The fragile peace from Amelia's forgiveness was short-lived. The next morning, we faced the grim reality of our loss.

The air hung heavy with grief as I walked through the cemetery, Michael flanking my right while Amelia walked slightly ahead of us. Her steps were measured, deliberate, as if each one required conscious effort. The sight of her slender shoulders, rigid with tension beneath her black dress, made my chest tighten.

As we approached Mrs. Garcia's grave, Amelia knelt down beside the fresh mound, her fingers trembling while arranging the lilies she'd brought. Michael instinctively stepped forward to help her, but I caught his eye with a warning glance and shook my head. This was her moment of grief—her personal goodbye. He understood immediately, backing away with a respectful nod.

Watching Amelia trace her fingers along the edge of the headstone, I noticed how she fought to maintain her composure, her knuckles whitening with effort. She'd been through too much already. The protective instinct that had been growing in me since reconnecting with her surged again, stronger than ever.

I stood a few steps away, my own bouquet of white roses in hand. When Amelia finished her silent communion, I approached the grave and placed my offering with reverence.

"Thank you for saving my son's life," I said quietly, meaning every word. "I promise your sacrifice won't be in vain."

The words felt inadequate against the magnitude of what this woman had done—using her own body to shield Lucas from harm. A debt I could never repay, but one I would honor by finding whoever was responsible.

From the corner of my eye, I watched Amelia move to her grandfather's headstone. She placed her palm against the marble, whispering words I could just barely make out.

"I swear, even if I have to give up being a doctor, I'll find out who did this." Her voice caught slightly.

My jaw clenched at her words. She should never have to choose between her calling and justice—I would ensure she didn't have to.

"I'm almost certain it was Robert and Margaret," she continued, unaware I could hear her. "They've always wanted to hurt me and the children. Now they've taken an innocent life."

When she finally stood and turned, our eyes met. I let her see my determination, my silent vow to stand with her through this. Something passed between us—understanding, perhaps, or shared resolve. She quickly looked away and walked toward the parking lot, but not before I caught the flash of vulnerability in her green eyes.

Michael was already at the car. Opening the door for Amelia myself, I took some small satisfaction in this minor act of care.

"Thank you," she murmured, sliding into the leather seat.

The silence in the car felt charged with unspoken emotions once I joined her. I noticed how she fidgeted slightly with the edge of her dress, a tell-tale sign of her anxiety.

"How's Lucas?" she finally asked, her voice strained.

"He's doing well," I replied, keeping my tone gentle, knowing she needed reassurance more than anything right now. "My mother is watching him and Ella. They're playing games together—they don't really understand what's happened."

Relief softened her features momentarily. "Good. I don't want him to know. He's too young to deal with this."

"Let the kids stay at the Black estate for a few more days," I said firmly. This wasn't negotiable—their safety came first. "We need to handle this situation first."

She nodded, and I could see the conflict in her eyes—grateful for the help but hating the dependence. That was Amelia—fiercely independent to a fault.

At the hospital, I walked slightly behind her, scanning every corner, every face. Michael had briefed me on potential threats, and I wasn't taking any chances. When we entered Mrs. Wilson's room, I was surprised to see Olivia and Noah already there.

"Amelia!" Olivia rushed over, embracing her friend tightly. I watched Amelia force a weak smile, her professional mask slipping into place.

"I'm managing. Thank you for coming to see Mrs. Wilson."

While Amelia approached the bed, I motioned for Noah to join me in the corner of the room.

"What have you found?" I asked quietly.

"The truck driver had a history of depression," Noah reported, keeping his voice low. "The phone number was international. I'm not sure if it's connected to Ashley."

My blood ran cold. If Ashley was behind this, the situation was even more dangerous than I'd initially thought. She'd proven how far she was willing to go for revenge.

I watched Amelia interact with Mrs. Wilson, noting how she professionally assessed the older woman's condition while maintaining a personal warmth. Her compassion, even in her own grief, was remarkable.

When she abruptly stepped out into the hallway, I followed, sensing she was about to do something rash.

"I need to end my leave of absence," she announced, heading toward the administrative offices.

I caught up with her in two strides, gently grabbing her wrist. "What are you doing?"

"Going back to work," she stated firmly, pulling free from my grasp. "It's time to draw out the snake."

Her determination both alarmed and impressed me. "What does that mean exactly?"

"Their target isn't just Lucas—it's me too," she explained, her voice steady despite the obvious fear she must be feeling. "If I keep hiding, they'll just have more time to plan their next move. I need to be visible, to make them think I've lowered my guard."

I looked at her, trying to read her face and really think about what she was saying. The plan made sense, but the idea of putting her in more danger made my stomach tighten. After a pause, I finally nodded.

“Alright, I see your point,” I said reluctantly. “But I’m going to push for more security for you.”

“Fine,” she replied, “but keep it low-key. I don’t want to scare off whoever’s behind this.”

"Don't worry," I assured her, feeling my resolve harden. "We'll catch them, but not at the expense of your safety."

Looking at her standing there—brave, determined, willing to put herself at risk to protect those she loved—I felt something shift inside me. This wasn't just about making amends anymore or reclaiming what I'd lost. It was about protecting her, standing with her, earning the right to be part of her life again.

And I would do whatever it took to make that happen.