When Contracts Turn to Forbidden Kisses Chapter 130

Daniel

I had been contemplating this confrontation for days. Seeing them together at the garage was the final push I needed

For three years, I had watched my cousin rebuild her life after whatever this man had done to her. For three years, I had intercepted his attempts to see her in Boston, protecting her while she carried and raised his children alone. Now he thought he could waltz back into her life? Not without passing through me first.

Felix Black would be my first move—a perfect way to test Ethan. So I headed to Room 311, where he was enjoying himself.

Marcus had already cleared the path, convincing the posted guard to take an impromptu break. Poor form on their security protocols, but advantageous for me.

I opened the door without knocking. The scene inside was exactly as my intelligence had suggested—Felix entertaining a female companion, both in a state of undress. Predictable and tawdry.

"What the fuck!" Felix scrambled with the sheets, his companion gasping in shock.

I maintained my composure, settling into an armchair as if I'd been invited. The plush leather felt cool against my back as I crossed my legs, observing Felix's panicked reaction with clinical detachment.

"Who the hell are you?" His voice cracked slightly. "Do you have any idea who I am? You can't just barge in here!"

I allowed myself the smallest smile. His attempt at intimidation was almost endearing in its ineffectiveness. "Marcus," I said without turning, "a Macallan, please. Neat."

Marcus moved to the minibar with silent efficiency. I'd brought him specifically because his imposing presence tended to unnerve people without him having to say a word.

"I said, do you know who I am? One call and I'll have security throwing you out on your ass!" Felix continued, his bravado transparent.

"Felix Black," I recited, accepting the crystal tumbler from Marcus. "Cousin to Ethan Black. Currently occupying a mid-level position at Black Investment Group that your father secured for you. Known for frequenting establishments like this one about three times a week." I took a deliberate sip, savoring both the whiskey and the moment. "Did I miss anything important?"

The fear that flashed across his face was satisfying. It wasn't just about Ethan. Felix himself had crossed a line, harassing her when she was most vulnerable.

"What do you want? Money?" he asked, clutching the sheets tighter.

I couldn't help but laugh. "How terribly gauche. No, Mr. Black, I don't want your money." I gestured toward the woman. "Perhaps you should let the lady get dressed. I apologize for interrupting your... performance."

Once she had retreated to the bathroom, I dropped all pretense of cordiality. "You touched something that belongs to me," I said, letting ice creep into my tone. "And for that, you're finished."

I watched confusion spread across his face as he tried to piece together what he'd done and who I might be. Perfect. Fear works best when mixed with uncertainty.

I pulled out my phone, my pulse steady despite the tension in the room. This was the critical moment—bringing Ethan into the equation. I dialed his number and placed the call on speaker.

After two rings: "Black speaking." His voice was controlled, professional.

"Mr. Black," I shifted to my business tone, "I was wondering if you'd be interested in watching a private performance this evening."

A calculated pause. "Who am I speaking with?"

"Daniel Astor," I said, seeing Felix's eyes go wide with recognition. "I'm with your cousin right now in Room 311 at the Black Rose Hotel. Looks like he’s lost his manners, and I figured you might help him find them."

"I'll be there in ten minutes," Ethan replied, his voice betraying nothing. Impressive control, I had to admit.

I used the waiting time to observe Felix's mounting anxiety, occasionally sipping my whiskey. The minutes passed slowly, each tick of my watch punctuating the silence.

Ethan showed up earlier than expected. He quickly took in the room, then his eyes settled on me.

"Mr. Astor," he nodded politely. "You seem to be in high spirits tonight. If you wanted entertainment, I could have arranged something more suitable."

Smooth deflection. I was beginning to see what Amelia might have found appealing about him.

"Ethan!" Felix blurted out. "This guy just barged in here! He's crazy!"

I swirled my whiskey, noting how Ethan neither moved to comfort his cousin nor apologized for him. "Mr. Black, I'm impressed by your prompt arrival. Coming straight from your car, I presume? The traffic on Fifth Avenue must have been cooperative."

I watched his eyes narrow slightly. He caught my implication—I'd been tracking his movements. Good. I wanted him to know I was thorough.

"Perhaps we should continue this conversation elsewhere, Mr. Astor?" he suggested.

"I find this suite quite comfortable," I replied, gesturing around us. "I've prepared a show for you, after all."

Felix scurried to Ethan's side like a frightened child. "He's threatening me, Ethan. Do something!"

I stood, smoothing my jacket. Time to reveal my true purpose. "Do you prefer poker or chess, Mr. Black?"

A slight pause as he processed my apparent non sequitur. "Chess has always been my game of choice."

"Excellent." I nodded to Marcus, who produced the chess set I'd instructed him to bring. "Life is like chess, don't you think? Every move has consequences. No takebacks."

Marcus set up the table between us with military precision. I was pleased by Ethan's composure—many men would have lost patience by now.

"Marcus, leave the door open, would you?" I said. "Let Mr. Black witness the consequences as well." A theatrical touch, perhaps, but psychological warfare requires proper staging.

"Black or white?" Ethan asked as he took his seat.

"I'll take black," I replied with deliberate irony. "You can have the first move."

As Ethan advanced his pawn, I studied his face. I could see the wheels turning behind that carefully controlled expression. He was playing along, trying to decipher my endgame. Meanwhile, Felix hovered nearby, completely out of his depth.

"What the hell is going on? Why are you playing games with this psycho?" Felix whined.

I ignored him completely, countering Ethan's move. The real game was between Ethan and me—Felix was merely a spectator now.

"Once a piece is moved, there's no undoing it," I remarked, loading my words with double meaning. "One wrong move, and the entire game falls apart."

Ethan's fingers lingered on his knight before placing it decisively. "Until the game is over, no move can truly be defined as right or wrong. The context is only clear at the end."

I gave a small smile, impressed by his reply. He was good at this—the banter, the subtle hints. "Philosophical. I wonder if you used that same way of thinking when you first approached Amelia three years ago."

The air shifted perceptibly. His eyes met mine with newfound intensity.

This man had approached Amelia with an ulterior motive three years ago. I needed to figure out what he truly wanted from her and whether he deserved the second chance she was giving him.