When Contracts Turn to Forbidden Kisses Chapter 13

Ethan

I sat in the VIP section of Blue Note, nursing my whiskey as the dim lights cast shadows across the leather couches. Beside me, James leaned forward, his voice low as we discussed Amelia's event of yesterday.

Before I could respond, a familiar figure approached our table. Noah strode in with his usual easy confidence, a grin spreading across his face as he spotted us.

I straightened, shifting gears. Noah was a friend of both James and me. The heir to Randall Studios, Noah had grown up with access to Hollywood's elite and Manhattan's highest circles, giving him insights on entertainment deals and industry players that occasionally intersected with my investigations. At 28, he maintained a carefully crafted playboy persona that masked his shrewd business instincts. While his production company made profitable mainstream films, I knew he secretly harbored ambitions to create more meaningful cinema.

"Gentlemen," Noah greeted, dropping into the seat across from me with a casual flair. "What’s with the serious faces? You look like you’re planning a heist."

I forced a smirk, exchanging a quick glance with James.

"I'll leave you two to catch up. I’ve got to check on things at the bar." James stood up, giving a casual nod before heading downstairs.

"Just catching up on some... business," I said, keeping my tone vague. "What brings you here, Noah?"

He shrugged, signaling for a drink. "Needed a break from the usual crowd. Plus, I figured Blue Note’s the place to be if I want to run into interesting people." His eyes lit up with that familiar excitement he got whenever a new story or conquest was on the horizon. "Speaking of which, today when I went to get my Aston Martin serviced, I met this absolutely stunning woman. Blonde hair, green eyes, killer body, but her attitude was... how do I put it... she had quite the personality."

I raised an eyebrow, immediately thinking of Amelia. A woman with "attitude" perfectly described my contractual wife, with her perpetually defiant gaze and sharp responses.

"Sounds like you're interested," I said flatly, my attention drifting to the dance floor below as it gradually filled with people. My eyes automatically scanned for any Viktor Group associates who might be present tonight.

The DJ switched beats, inviting patrons to dance. Colorful lights flashed across the crowd, creating the perfect cover for observation and clandestine meetings. This was why Blue Note was so valuable for intelligence work – visibility without exposure.

Suddenly, Noah straightened up, his eyes widening. "Holy shit, that's her! I can't believe she's here. She looks even hotter in a club setting."

I followed his gaze and instantly froze—it was Amelia, wearing a form-fitting black dress, her blonde hair catching the colored lights. What the hell was she doing here? This wasn't part of our agreement. She wasn't supposed to be in my operational territory.

I watched her carefully as she entered with Olivia Bennett, the actress. Her eyes scanned the room methodically, lingering on James behind the bar. My investigative instincts immediately kicked in. She wasn't here to dance – she was looking for someone specific, and that someone was James.

Noah's expression brightened with recognition. "What a coincidence! I should go say hello."

I didn't stop him. In fact, watching Noah intercept her could provide valuable information. Why was my supposed wife seeking out James, one of the few people who knew my real identity? Was this random, or was she somehow onto my investigation?

From my vantage point, I observed Amelia's body language as Noah approached her. She was clearly annoyed by the interruption but maintaining politeness. Her eyes kept darting toward James, confirming my suspicion that he was her target. When Noah led her to the bar, she positioned herself strategically closer to James. This was no coincidence.

"She's good," I murmured to myself, impressed despite my growing concern. Either she was FBI herself – which seemed unlikely given our thorough background check – or she had her own agenda that somehow involved James.

I watched as she pretended to drink, dumping her martini into a nearby plant when Noah wasn't looking. A classic move to maintain sobriety while appearing intoxicated. Not something your average doctor would know to do.

When she began swaying and slurring her words, I knew she was creating a scenario to speak with James alone. It was time to intervene.

I made my way downstairs, approaching just as James came over to assess the situation. Noah was suggesting taking Amelia home – a complication I didn't need.

"Noah, let James take care of Miss Bennett," I said firmly, stepping into their circle.

Noah's eyes widened in recognition. "Miss Bennett? Julian's sister?"

I saw confusion flash across Amelia's face at my deliberate misdirection, calling her by Olivia's surname. Good – let her wonder how much I knew about her activities today.

As James led Olivia and Noah away, I took Amelia's arm firmly. "Michael's waiting with the car," I said coldly, steering her through the crowd.

She maintained her drunken act impressively, though I could feel the tension in her muscles beneath my grip. In the parking garage, she continued swaying for effect as Michael pulled up, but I could see the calculation in her eyes.

As we approached the car, I tightened my grip on her arm, my patience wearing thin. "Drop the act, Amelia," I muttered under my breath, just loud enough for her to hear. "I know you’re not drunk. What are you really doing here, and why are you so interested in James?"

She stumbled slightly, whether from surprise or part of her performance, I couldn’t tell. Her green eyes flicked up to meet mine for a split second before she looked away, her voice slurring as she replied, "I... I don’t know what you’re talking about, Ethan."

"Save it," I snapped, my tone icy as I opened the car door for her.

With one swift movement, I yanked her into the backseat, no longer bothering with pleasantries. Her fake intoxication was an insult to my intelligence.

"Drive," I ordered Michael, my eyes never leaving Amelia's face.