When Contracts Turn to Forbidden Kisses Chapter 20

Amelia

The blaring of my phone alarm sliced through the cozy warmth of my blankets. I groaned, fumbling around to shut it off. My throat felt like I’d swallowed a handful of gravel, and my eyes—man, they were basically glued shut from swelling. I hauled myself up to sit on the edge of the bed and squinted at the screen: 1:58 PM.

Damn. I’d slept half the day away.

Yesterday was a total disaster. After Ethan patched up my burned hand, the way his fingers brushed against my skin stirred up stuff I wasn’t ready for—memories of my mom fixing up my cuts and scrapes when I was a kid. When I was alone in my room, I cried until there was nothing left, holding onto an old photo of her I keep stashed in my nightstand.

I shuffled over to the huge windows and yanked the curtains open. Spring sunlight poured in, way too bright and cheery for how I felt. I checked my weather app—59 degrees, perfect day to be out. Too bad I felt like complete crap.

In the bathroom mirror, I splashed cold water on my face, wincing as it stung the burn on my right hand. That brought back yesterday’s kitchen fiasco—and how surprisingly gentle Ethan had been.

“Knock it off,” I muttered to my reflection. “This marriage is just a deal, nothing else.”

That thought was enough to snap me out of it. I needed to get out of this place, away from the constant reminder of this fake marriage and the guy who clearly doesn’t trust me.

I was tying my sneakers by the front door when my phone buzzed with a voice message. Olivia’s upbeat voice echoed through the entryway:

“Lia, you still passed out? Get your butt outta bed and meet me at that new spot in SoHo. Their latte art is supposed to be Insta-worthy!”

I cracked a small smile despite myself and hit the call button. “Hey, Liv,” I rasped, cringing at how rough my voice sounded.

“Damn, girl, what’s up with your voice? You sound like you’ve been chain-smoking,” she teased.

“Rough night,” I said, clearing my throat. “Shoot me the address. I was heading out anyway.”

Her next voice message popped up almost instantly: “Your voice sounds hot as hell right now. Tell me you finally got some with that finance wizard of yours?”

Before I could even reply, a third message came through: “For real, though, what’s Ethan Black like in the sack? The tabloids never spill on that kind of asset.”

My face went up in flames as I scrambled to mute my phone. That’s when I heard it—the distinct click of pricey leather shoes on the marble floor behind me. My stomach dropped straight to the ground.

“Is that how you talk about my personal business with your friends?” Ethan’s voice was ice-cold, cutting through the air.

I whipped around to see him standing in the middle of the living room, looking sharp as hell in a tailored charcoal gray suit. His blue eyes were like daggers, slicing right through me.

“You’ve broken the confidentiality clause in our contract by telling a third party about our arrangement.” His face got darker with every word. “Per paragraph seven, section three, that’s a million-dollar violation.”

My heart was pounding so hard I thought it might bust out of my chest—half from embarrassment at getting caught, half from him just showing up out of nowhere.

“What are you even doing here?” I managed to get out, my scratchy voice barely above a whisper. “And you’re listening in on my private calls?”

“This is our shared space,” he shot back, his tone frigid. “I’ve got every right to know what’s going on under this roof. Now, about that breach of contract penalty.”

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. “Fine, I told Olivia—just Olivia. She’s my best friend, and I trust her with my life. She’d never spill anything to the press.”

“A contract’s a contract,” Ethan said, stepping closer, looming over me. “No exceptions.”

“I’m aware your mom’s inheritance is worth way more than that amount,” he went on, his voice taking on a hard edge. “Since you’ve broken our deal, you’ve gotta face the consequences.”

I let out a bitter laugh, surprising even myself. In that moment, something clicked, a decision locking into place.

“Since you’re so desperate for the cash, let’s just end this whole charade,” I said, lifting my chin and staring him down. My green eyes burned with defiance. “I’ll pay the million bucks to terminate the contract and file for divorce. I’ll figure out how to get the money from my grandfather. You just get the divorce papers ready.”

Shock flashed across Ethan’s face. He clearly hadn’t seen that coming. I could see the gears turning in his head—probably calculating how this would mess up whatever he’s got going on. But there was something else there too, something I couldn’t pin down.

“You sure about this?” His voice sounded tight, almost strained. “Divorce means you lose the protection of the Black family name.”

“I’d rather deal with the risks on my own than keep up this fake marriage,” I said, keeping my tone steady. “At least this way, I can keep what’s left of my mom’s legacy out of the hands of greedy bastards like you.”

Ethan’s fists clenched at his sides. I could tell I’d hit a nerve, especially with that “bastards like you” jab. Good. Let him feel something for once.

Three hours later, I was sitting across from Olivia at a trendy café in SoHo. The place was exactly like she’d hyped it up to be—super hip, with brick walls and baristas who looked like they stepped out of a magazine.

“You’re getting divorced?” Olivia nearly choked on her oat milk latte. “Y’all have been married for, what, not even a month?”

I broke down how Ethan overheard her voice messages about us supposedly getting cozy and now he’s slapping me with a million-dollar penalty for breaking confidentiality.

“Jesus,” Olivia said, slamming her cup down. “What a controlling jerk! All this over some harmless joking?”

“It’s in the contract,” I admitted.

“And now you’ve gotta cough up a million bucks?” Her eyes went wide. “That’s nuts! Look, I can spot you the cash. You can shove the check in his face tomorrow.”

I squeezed her hand, grateful. “Thanks, but I’ve got it handled. The money’s technically mine, just tied up in assets.”

She studied me, worry all over her face. “Y’all didn’t have sex, right?”

I shook my head hard. “No way. My pride wouldn’t let me get near a guy who just sees me as a business deal, even if he is Ethan Black.”

Olivia nodded, looking relieved. “Good. ‘Cause when you finally do get with someone, it better be a guy who actually gives a damn about you.”

Her words lingered as I sipped my coffee, wondering why the idea of cutting ties with Ethan left this weird, empty ache in my chest. This was the right move… wasn’t it?