When Contracts Turn to Forbidden Kisses Chapter 177

Amelia

When we returned to the Black Mansion, I stared at the leather-bound notebook in my hands, running my fingers over the electronic lock built into its spine. William had always been meticulous about his privacy, but this level of security seemed excessive even for him. After twenty minutes of trying various combinations—his birthday, my birthday, my mother's birthday—I was ready to throw the damn thing across the room.

"Still no luck?" Ethan's deep voice startled me.

I looked up to find him standing in the doorway of our bedroom, fresh from the shower. Water droplets clung to his bare chest, tracing paths down the defined muscles of his abdomen before disappearing into the white towel wrapped low around his hips. His dark hair was slicked back, and the scent of his expensive soap filled the room.

"Nothing works," I sighed, setting the notebook on the nightstand. "Why would Grandpa lock it if he wanted me to read it?"

Ethan crossed the room and sat beside me on the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. "Maybe some truths need time. We don't need to rush into everything tonight."

Something in his tone made me glance up sharply. "You think there's something bad in here, don't you?"

He reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "It's been a long day. We should get some sleep—I have an early meeting tomorrow."

His hand lingered on my cheek, thumb gently tracing my jawline. The gesture was intimate, almost possessive, carrying the weight of something unspoken between us.

"Fine," I conceded, though my mind was still racing with questions. "You're right. Tomorrow's another day."

I kept my breathing slow and even, eyes shut as I listened to Ethan move around the room. After fifteen minutes of pretending to be asleep, I heard him approach my side of the bed. Through barely-open lids, I watched him carefully lift William's notebook from the nightstand.

My heart hammered against my ribs, but I forced myself to remain still. Ethan studied the notebook for a long moment before silently leaving the bedroom, closing the door with practiced quietness behind him.

I waited until his footsteps faded down the hallway before opening my eyes fully. The realization hit me like a physical blow—Ethan knew more about this notebook than he was letting on. Tomorrow, I decided, there would be no more secrets between us.

---

Morning light streamed through the curtains when I confronted him. Ethan sat on the edge of the bed, already dressed in a charcoal suit, dark circles under his eyes betraying his sleepless night.

"You know how to open it," I said without preamble. "Don't deny it."

Ethan's shoulders sagged slightly. "Yes."

"How?"

"Harrison gave me the combination along with some other documents from William's estate." He met my gaze steadily. "I can show you what's inside, but Amelia, I'd rather be with you when you read it. Some truths are easier to bear when you're not alone."

I squared my shoulders. "I need to face this by myself. Whatever's in there, it was meant for me."

A shadow crossed his face, but he nodded. "I respect that. We'll go to the riverside apartment. It's more private there."

---

The notebook sat on the coffee table in Ethan's apartment, its presence almost menacing in the quiet room. Ethan knelt beside it, deftly entering a six-digit code into the electronic lock. The mechanism clicked open.

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay?" he asked, concern etching lines around his eyes.

"I'm sure," I said, steadier than I felt. "This is something I need to do alone."

When the study door closed behind me, I took a deep breath and opened the journal. My grandfather's elegant handwriting filled page after page, documenting not just his daily life but the weight of his conscience. He wrote of me often—his pride in my accomplishments, his guilt over my childhood, his fear for my future.

Then I found the entries that changed everything.

For three hours, I sat motionless, absorbing William's confessions. How he'd discovered Robert's involvement in my mom's death but couldn't bring himself to report his only son. How he'd pushed me toward marriage with Ethan as protection against forces he couldn't control. Page after page of a man torn between family loyalty and moral obligation.

I didn't realize I was crying until tears splashed onto the aged paper. I choked back sobs, unwilling to let Ethan hear my breakdown through the door.

When I finally emerged, my face was washed clean but my eyes were red-rimmed. Ethan stood immediately from where he'd been waiting, a cup of tea cooling in his hands. His expression told me he'd never strayed far from the door.

"I know you have more," I said, my voice raspy.

He didn't seem surprised by my demand. "How did you know?"

I didn't answer. It was just a feeling—since the moment she stopped me from opening the dairy, I knew there was more.

Wordlessly, Ethan led me to his home office and opened a hidden wall safe. Inside was a manila envelope and a USB drive. He inserted the drive into his laptop, pulling up a video file.

My grandfather's face appeared on screen, older and more tired than I remembered him. His voice was frail but determined as he spoke directly to the camera.

"Amelia, if you're watching this, I've failed to make things right in my lifetime. I chose to protect my son—your father—despite knowing his crimes. It was the act of a coward. A father blinded by love for his only child, the last connection to your grandmother."

I listened, numb, as William detailed how Robert had fallen under Margaret's influence, how they'd constructed elaborate lies about my mother's infidelity.

"I couldn't bring myself to destroy my own son," William's recorded voice cracked with emotion. "Instead, I pushed you toward Ethan Black, knowing his family would protect you when I no longer could. Another decision I made for you without your consent. For this, and so much more, I can only ask your forgiveness."

When the video ended, the room fell silent except for the sound of my ragged breathing.

"I need some time," I whispered, standing on unsteady legs.

Ethan nodded, keeping his distance while clearly wanting to reach for me. I saw him pull out his phone as I left the room, heard him canceling meetings in a clipped, authoritative tone. Even in my daze, I recognized what he was doing—clearing his schedule to be there for me as I processed the devastating truth about my family.

The weight of William's secrets pressed down on me, but somewhere in the midst of my pain, I felt a flicker of gratitude that I wouldn't have to bear it alone.