When Contracts Turn to Forbidden Kisses Chapter 176

Amelia

The Manhattan skyline was painted in hues of gold and amber as the sun began its descent behind the towering skyscrapers. Central Park's trees stood in stark silhouette against the orange-red sky, their shapes creating a natural contrast to the geometric precision of the surrounding buildings.

"Earth to Dr. Thompson," Rachel's voice pulled me from my thoughts as we walked toward the hospital parking lot. "Your mind's been somewhere else all afternoon."

"Sorry," I smiled, adjusting my bag on my shoulder. "Just thinking about everything that's happened these past few months."

"Well, thinking time's over," Rachel nudged me playfully. "Your Wall Street elite husband is waiting."

I followed her gaze and spotted Ethan leaning against his luxury sedan, arms crossed over his chest, looking impossibly handsome in his tailored suit.

"Oh, by the way," I said as we approached the car, "I haven't told you yet, but Ethan and I decided to have our official wedding ceremony next weekend."

Rachel stopped abruptly, her eyes widening. "What? Congratulations!" She pulled me into a quick hug.

"Well," Rachel sighed dramatically, "some of us are destined to be perpetually single, but at least we're free to eat ice cream in our pajamas without judgment."

As I approached the car, I was surprised to see Lucas and Ella sitting in the back seat. My son was absorbed in a small handheld game while my daughter pressed her face against the window, waving excitedly.

"What's this?" I asked as Ethan opened the passenger door for me. "I thought they were with George."

"Daddy picked us up early!" Ella announced proudly.

I raised an eyebrow at Ethan as he settled into the driver's seat. "So, where are we going?"

"Your home," Ethan replied, starting the engine. "I thought it was time we visited the Brooklyn house and told the staff about the wedding. They should be invited too."

My throat tightened unexpectedly. "Thank you. After my father's arrest, the old house has been even quieter. But those staff members worked for William most of their lives. They're getting older, and I couldn't bear to let them go."

I turned to look out the window. "Mrs. Wilson moved there after recovering from her injuries. I haven't taken the children to see her yet. I'll never forget how she saved Lucas."

Ethan's hand found mine, his thumb tracing gentle circles on my skin. "Then it's definitely time for a visit."

We hadn't called ahead, so the surprise on Mrs. Wilson's face when she opened the door was genuine. Her eyes widened at the sight of us – a family of four standing on the doorstep of the house where I'd grown up.

"Miss Amelia!" she exclaimed, her wrinkled hands flying to her mouth. Then her gaze dropped to the kids. "Lucas! Ella! Oh my, come in, come in!"

The house smelled exactly as I remembered – a mixture of lemon polish, old books, and the faint lingering scent of my grandfather's pipe tobacco. Mrs. Jerkins, our longtime cook, nearly dropped her dish towel when she saw us. Within minutes, the quiet house transformed into a flurry of activity.

An hour later, the dining room filled with the aroma of Mrs. Jerkins's cooking. Lucas, typically reserved around strangers, was drawn to the kitchen by the enticing smells. He tugged on Ethan's hand, pulling him toward the dining room.

"Everyone should eat together," Ethan announced, motioning for the staff to join us at the table. They exchanged uncomfortable glances, clearly believing it improper.

"Mr. Black, that's not how—" Mrs. Hopkins began.

"It's exactly how it should be," Ethan insisted gently. "We're all family here."

Halfway through the meal, I caught Ethan's eye across the table and nodded slightly. He smiled in understanding.

"Actually," I said, setting down my fork, "Ethan and I have an announcement to make. We've decided to have our official wedding ceremony next weekend, and we'd like all of you to attend."

Mrs. Wilson's eyes filled with tears. "Oh, my dear girl. William would be so happy." She reached across the table to pat my hand. "So very happy."

After dinner, while the children were playing outside, I found myself drawn to my grandfather's study. The heavy oak door creaked slightly as I pushed it open, revealing a room that time seemed to have forgotten.

The leather chair behind the desk was worn in the exact pattern of my grandfather's frame. His reading glasses still rested on top of a financial journal, as if he had just stepped away for a moment.

"He promised me a convertible when I finished grad school," I said softly, aware that Ethan had followed me into the room. "It was our little secret. He said a doctor should drive something that makes her feel alive after long hours of saving lives."

I turned to find Ethan watching me with an expression I couldn't quite read. Before I could ask what he was thinking, his attention shifted to something behind me. Following his gaze, I noticed that the crystal paperweight I had just touched had activated something in the wall – a small section had slid open, revealing a hidden compartment.

"I knew it," I whispered, moving toward the newly revealed opening.

The hidden door led to a narrow staircase that descended into darkness. Ethan used his phone's flashlight to illuminate rough stone steps.

The staircase opened into a surprisingly large underground space divided into several distinct areas. As Ethan found and flipped a light switch, I gasped at what was revealed.

One corner housed a small gym with boxing equipment. Another contained a black grand piano. There was a painting studio with easels, and against the far wall stood floor-to-ceiling bookshelves.

"My secret education," I explained, walking around the space with reverence. "Robert refused to let my grandfather 'waste money' on extracurricular activities for me. So Grandpa built this place and smuggled in tutors when my father was away."

I ran my fingers over the piano keys. "Piano on Tuesdays. Art on Wednesdays. Self-defense on Thursdays and Saturdays."

Ethan examined the boxing equipment. "So that's where you learned to throw a punch."

I smiled sadly. "Grandpa said a woman should know how to protect herself, especially a woman who might one day inherit enough to make her a target."

I sat on the piano bench, emotions welling up. "I had an unhappy childhood in many ways, but these moments—these stolen hours of learning and creating—they saved me. All because of a misunderstanding that made my father believe I wasn't his daughter."

Ethan knelt before me, taking my hands in his. "I'm sorry you had to hide who you were."

As I rose from the piano bench, the seat hinged unexpectedly, revealing a hidden compartment. Inside was a leather-bound book secured with an electronic lock.

I examined the lock, trying to think what password my grandfather might have used. My fingers hovered over the keypad when Ethan gently took the book from my hands.

"We don't have to rush this," he said softly. "Let's take this home and approach it carefully."

I started to protest, but he had already closed the notebook and tucked it away.

Could it be that Ethan knows something? Some secret my grandfather has been hiding from me?