When Contracts Turn to Forbidden Kisses Chapter 119

Margaret

I flinched as Robert's crystal whiskey glass shattered against the mahogany paneling. The sharp tang of expensive liquor filled the air as amber liquid dripped down the wall of our Brooklyn brownstone's living room. That stain would be a nightmare to remove from the custom wallpaper I'd specially imported.

"You fucking idiot!" Robert's face contorted with rage, his expensive suit jacket unbuttoned and slightly askew. "What the hell were you thinking? I told you to handle Amelia, not go after her children first!"

I smoothed my designer skirt, maintaining the composure I've perfected over years of marriage to this volatile man. "Lower your voice, Robert. The staff will hear you."

"I don't give a damn who hears!" He paced our Persian rug, hands trembling with fury. I mentally calculated the cost of replacing anything else he might decide to break during this tantrum. "You scared her off! Now she'll be on high alert."

"That wasn't me," I replied coolly, crossing my arms. "I had nothing to do with threatening her children. Besides, those kids might not even be Ethan's. What would I gain by harming them?"

Robert's rage was misdirected, as usual. To think I would orchestrate something so clumsy was, frankly, insulting.

I approached Robert cautiously, taking his arm and guiding him to the leather sofa. "Sit down, darling. You're going to give yourself a heart attack."

He sank into the cushions, still seething. I settled beside him, strategically placing his hand on my thigh. I felt his fingers automatically begin to knead my flesh – a predictable response I could always count on to distract him. Men are so simple sometimes.

"We need to focus," I purred, leaning closer. "Our target is that ungrateful daughter of yours. She's the one standing between us and that inheritance."

I watched his breathing slow as his hand inched higher.

"You're certain those children aren't Ethan's?" Robert asked, his voice growing husky. "If they are, the Black family could complicate everything."

I let out a derisive laugh, having considered this angle thoroughly. "Don't be naive. A financial powerhouse like the Black family wouldn't leave their heirs with some random doctor for years without acknowledgment. Those kids belong to someone else."

I watched Robert nod slowly, seemingly satisfied with my logic. His hand slipped beneath my skirt, fingers exploring familiar territory. I allowed it, knowing physical distraction was my most effective tool with him. I knew exactly how to manipulate his primitive desires.

"You still have access to your accounts?" Robert asked, voice dropping to a whisper.

I stiffened slightly. This wasn't the first time he'd asked for money lately. Something didn't add up. "Why?"

"I need some cash." His fingers continued their intimate exploration. "How much do you have available?"

"What happened to your Thompson Enterprises shares? I thought you still held fifteen percent." I kept my voice even despite his wandering hand.

"I've invested in a high-return opportunity," he mumbled against my neck. "It's about to pay off big time."

I didn't believe him for a second. Robert had never been particularly skilled with investments – his father William had always made that abundantly clear. But his fingers found their mark, and I couldn't suppress a moan. Physical pleasure had always been my weakness with him.

"Once this deal comes through," he whispered, "I can double, maybe triple your money. Buy you all those handbags you've been eyeing. Anything you want."

His hand moved more insistently, his practiced touch making my breath catch. My resistance crumbled under the twin pressures of physical pleasure and financial promises. I reached for my purse on the side table, extracting a platinum card.

"There's about a hundred thousand on this one," I said breathlessly, straddling him. "But I want more than just money in return."

He violently snatched the card, stuffing it into his pocket with a movement tinged with panic.

"I need to make some calls," he said, already heading toward the door. "Don't wait up."

I sat frozen on the sofa, my body still flushed with unfulfilled desire. This wasn't how our usual transaction ended. Robert never walked away before finishing what he started. Something was definitely off.

The sound of heels clicking on the marble staircase broke my reverie. My daughter Emily sauntered down, dressed in head-to-toe designer labels that cost more than most people's monthly rent.

"Don't you look fancy," I observed, straightening my skirt. "Hot date?"

Emily twirled, showing off her outfit. "Felix is taking me on his yacht. He said he has a surprise for me." Her eyes sparkled with excitement.

I sighed, recognizing the look of infatuation on my daughter's face. "Darling, I wish you'd consider other options. I could introduce you to several suitable heirs from respectable families."

"Why should I?" Emily pouted, checking her reflection in the gilded mirror. "If Amelia could marry into the Black family, why can't I?"

"Because Amelia and Ethan are divorced now," I pointed out. "And she'll never truly fit into high society, no matter how hard she tries."

Emily spun around, her expression hardening in a way that reminded me of myself at her age. "That's exactly my point. She had her chance and blew it. Now it's my turn with Felix."

"Dad's been acting weird," Emily said, changing the subject. "Have you noticed how he's been throwing money around lately? Last week he bought that ridiculous sports car, and now I hear he's looking at yachts."

I nodded slowly. So I wasn't the only one who'd noticed. "I've noticed."

"Maybe you should have him followed," Emily suggested, applying another coat of lip gloss. "Find out what he's really up to."

The idea had already crossed my mind. A private investigator would be easy enough to arrange – I had used several in the past for various purposes.

"Just be careful with Felix," I said as Emily gathered her things. "Men like that require... special handling."

Emily paused at the door, waiting for more guidance.

"If you want to keep him," I continued, my voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "don't be too proper in the bedroom. Men need physical satisfaction to stay hooked. Give him what others won't, and he'll never look elsewhere."

Emily smiled, a calculating look crossing her young face that made me proud. "Don't worry, Mother. I know exactly how to handle Felix Black."

As the door closed behind my daughter, I pulled out my phone, scrolling through my contacts for a reliable private investigator.