When Contracts Turn to Forbidden Kisses Chapter 133

Amelia

I had just hung up the phone with Ethan when it rang again. Emily's name flashed across my screen. With a sigh, I swiped to answer.

"Hello?"

"Why does Ethan blame his injuries on Felix?" Emily said hurriedly.

My stomach dropped. "What? How did that happen?"

"He's injured! His right hand and palm are all bandaged up, but he blamed it on Felix," Emily fumed. "Felix told me Daniel drugged him. Why are all the men around you always targeting me and Felix?"

My mind raced back to Ethan's excuse about feeling unwell, his refusal to join our barbecue. It suddenly made sense why he'd been avoiding me.

"What do you mean?" I pressed, already grabbing my purse and keys.

"Last night, after you met, Ethan was asked to meet Daniel, so it must be him who hurt Ethan." Emily paused dramatically. "So much for your perfect ex-husband, huh?"

I ended the call without bothering to respond. The pieces were falling into place. Ethan hadn't been sick at all—he just didn't want me to see his injuries. But why would he meet with Daniel? And why would Daniel hurt him?

Fifteen minutes later, I was knocking on Daniel's hotel room door, my heart hammering against my ribs.

"Amelia?" Daniel looked surprised to see me standing there, cheeks flushed with anger. "What's wrong?"

I pushed past him into the room. "What did you do to Ethan's hand?"

Daniel's expression shifted from surprise to something unreadable. He closed the door and leaned against it, studying me carefully.

"I didn't expect you to find out so soon," he said calmly.

"So it's true?" I couldn't keep the accusation from my voice. "You hurt him? Why would you do that?"

Daniel moved to the mini-bar, taking his time to pour himself a drink. "I didn't touch him, Amelia."

"Then what happened to his hand?"

Daniel paused. "He did it to himself."

I froze. "What do you mean, he did it to himself?"

Daniel took a long sip of his whiskey before answering. "He came to me, Amelia. He wanted to confess something."

"Confess what?" My voice had dropped to barely above a whisper.

Daniel's eyes met mine, serious and steady. "He admitted that when he first approached you three years ago, he was investigating your mother's case."

The room seemed to tilt. "What are you talking about?"

"He's FBI, Amelia. Or was. He was investigating the money laundering at Victor Group—where your mother worked."

I sank onto the edge of the bed, the words hitting me like physical blows. "That's impossible. Ethan is... he runs Black Investment Group."

"As a cover," Daniel explained, his voice gentler now. "He was assigned to the Victor Group case three years before you met. When your mother died, they suspected you might be involved too."

"Me?" I felt sick. "Why would they think that?"

"Because your mother was collecting evidence against them before she died," Daniel said. "They thought you might have helped her, or at least known about it."

I shook my head, struggling to process this information. "So our entire relationship was... what? Just part of his investigation?"

"That's why he came to see me," Daniel continued. "He wanted to confess that he'd wronged you. He said that even though he approached you for the investigation, he genuinely fell in love with you. He said when he discovered you were innocent, he never provided any intelligence about you to his superiors."

I thought back to our first meeting, the seemingly chance encounter, how quickly things had progressed between us. Had it all been calculated? Planned?

"So what happened to his hand?" I asked, my voice hollow.

Daniel's expression darkened. "I was going to punch him myself. But before I could do anything, he picked up the knife I had left on the table and cut his own hand. Said he deserved punishment for deceiving you, and if hurting himself could earn your forgiveness, it was worth it."

I stood up abruptly. "I need to see him."

"Amelia—"

"I need to hear this from him, Daniel. Not from you, not from anyone else." My hands were shaking, but my resolve was firm.

Daniel nodded slowly. "Just... be careful. I believe he truly loves you now, but you need to hear the whole truth."

I drove to Ethan's riverside apartment in a daze, my mind replaying every moment of our past relationship, searching for signs I'd missed.

I stood outside his door, my fingers trembling slightly, my heart pounding like a drum. The air felt thick with tension, as if every second was a reminder that this meeting would change everything.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself, but the doubts and unease surged like a tide inside me. Why had he hidden the truth? Why would he hurt himself? These questions stabbed at my heart like sharp blades.

I hesitated only briefly before knocking.

When Ethan opened the door, the first thing that caught my eye was how he instinctively pulled his jacket tighter around his body, almost as if shielding himself from more than just the cold.

His right arm was pressed close, hidden beneath the fabric, and I noticed the subtle tension in his fingers clutching the sleeve—an awkward, almost desperate attempt to conceal something painful. My breath hitched, and a cold, sinking knot twisted deep in my stomach, spreading a numbness that made my limbs feel heavy and unsteady.

He sighed, a sound heavy with exhaustion and something unspoken, then stepped back to let me in.

Without thinking, my hand reached out, trembling slightly as I gently peeled back the jacket sleeve. Beneath it, the white gauze was stained with dark, fresh blood that seeped through like a silent scream.

The sight hit me harder than I expected, and tears welled up, blurring my vision. My heart clenched painfully, as if it too had been wounded.

"Why?" I whispered, my voice barely audible, trembling as I looked up to meet his eyes.

His blue eyes, usually so confident and controlled, were filled with pain and regret. The sight broke something inside me, even as my mind raced with questions that needed answers.

In that moment, I didn’t even know what answer I was seeking from him. Was it why he had come close to me? Or why he had fallen in love with me? My mind was a tangle of confusion and pain, as if the whole world had suddenly blurred into uncertainty.