When Contracts Turn to Forbidden Kisses Chapter 36

Felix

“Worthless piece of crap!” Dad’s voice thundered through our family’s house as I pushed open the heavy oak door.

He sat on the imported leather couch like some Wall Street kingpin, face darker than a storm rolling over the city, fingers wrapped tight around that damn ebony cane he always carried—more to scare people than to actually help him walk.

Mom stood beside him, her face all fake worry, hands clasped tight in front of her designer dress like she was posing for a photo.

“Get over here and take a look at your handiwork!” Dad slammed the cane down on the marble floor, the crack echoing through the room.

One glance at the high-res photos spread out on the glass coffee table, and my gut sank. The photos hit the ground at my feet with a smack. Jesus, they were everywhere—me at Nebula nightclub, surrounded by models, champagne bottles in both hands.

“These pictures are making the rounds through every social circle in Manhattan!” Dad’s cane cracked down again, this time clipping my shoulder. I winced but didn’t budge. “Do you have any clue how many investors are questioning me right now?”

I threw my arms up to block him, but he didn’t let up.

“How the hell did I end up with a screw-up like you?” he bellowed, face red with fury. “Me, David Black, stuck with a son like this!”

He stopped for a second, breathing hard, and jabbed a finger at the huge portrait of Ethan on the wall. My perfect freaking cousin, with his perfect freaking life.

“Look at Ethan! He’s been running Black Investments for what, six months? Already doubled our market cap! Wall Street Journal’s calling him ‘the investment genius of his generation’!”

I stared at the floor, the usual weight of being a total failure pressing down on me.

“And you?” Dad’s voice was pure disgust. “I send you to Wharton, and all you do is bounce from club to club, messing with girls and dragging our name through the dirt!”

“Dad, I know I screwed up… but those girls were down for it—”

Big mistake. The cane came down harder this time.

“Shut your damn mouth! While Ethan’s handling billions, you’re out here making our family a joke!”

Mom finally stepped in, lightly grabbing his arm. “David, please, calm down. Felix gets that he messed up.”

Dad jerked his arm away. “Stay out of this, Laura! Our voting power on the board is already shaky, and he’s making it worse!”

He turned back to me, eyes cold as ice. “The SEC’s sniffing around our projects because of your stunts. The board is questioning whether I can even lead. All because my son can’t keep it in his pants!”

He wasn’t wrong—our side of the family had been losing ground for years. Uncle Thomas being sick should’ve been Dad’s shot to take over, but nope, Grandpa handed everything to Ethan.

"I'm giving you one last chance," Dad said, pointing the cane right at my chest. "Find a decent woman and settle down. You see how much your grandfather George adores Ethan's wife."

His eyes narrowed. “If you don’t, I’ll cut off every penny of your trust fund and kick you out of this family. Got it?”

He turned, shoulders slumping like he was done with me. “Ethan’s got Black Investments now. We can’t give the board or the press any more reasons to come after us.”

Later that night, I was holed up in my bedroom, the bruises on my back throbbing with every breath. This apartment felt like a damn jail cell—a fancy one, sure, but still a cage reminding me of everything I couldn’t have.

“Ethan freaking Black,” I muttered, chucking a lamp at the wall. It smashed to pieces, the sound weirdly satisfying as shards hit my overpriced Persian rug.

Why him? Why’s he the golden boy?

“This ain’t over,” I whispered to the empty room. “I’ll figure out who leaked those pics to Dad. And I’ll find a way to take back what’s ours.”

My phone buzzed with a custom ringtone. The screen flashed “Emily,” and I frowned. The girl was obsessed—always texting, always fishing for attention.

“Felix…” Her voice shook through the speaker, thick with tears. “I’m scared… can you come over?”

Perfect timing. I needed something to take my mind off this crap.

The Four Seasons suite reeked of pricey perfume when I got there. Emily was in the doorway, looking like a dream in a white Prada slip dress, eyes puffy and red but still hot as hell.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, not really giving a damn about the answer.

Two bottles of Dom Pérignon later, her little touches got bolder. Hand on my thigh, lips near my ear, whispering how she’d always wanted me. The booze dulled the ache in my back, swapping it for a different kind of heat.

Every touch felt like a middle finger to Ethan. Every kiss like I was taking something tied to him.

Her breath hitched as I pulled her closer, my hands sliding under the thin fabric of her dress, feeling the warmth of her skin. She didn’t pull away, her fingers digging into my shoulders as I pressed her against the wall. The tension snapped like a taut wire, and we stumbled toward the bed, clothes shedding in a frantic blur.

The dress slipped from her body and hit the floor with a soft thud. It revealed her gentle curves and trembling anticipation. I hovered over her, my hands roaming, tracing every inch as her gasps filled the room.

“Felix,” she whispered, voice raw with need.

As she clung to me, I felt her nails scrape down my back. The world narrowed to the heat between us, the way she arched under me, inexperienced but eager, her body responding to every touch like it was the first time she’d ever felt anything this intense.

I pulled back just enough to look into her wide, trusting eyes, a flicker of hesitation cutting through the haze of lust. But then she pulled me closer, her lips crashing into mine, and any doubt burned away.

I moved with purpose, guiding her through it, her soft moans spurring me on as I took her slowly at first, mindful of her inexperience, then deeper, harder, as she clung to me. The rhythm built, raw and desperate, until we were both lost in it, the suite echoing with the sounds of our release.

Morning light crept through the suite’s curtains, making everything way too real. Emily was next to me, the sheets under her stained with blood. Shit. She’d been a virgin.

Guilt hit me hard as I looked at her sleeping face, so innocent and trusting. She’d given me something huge, and I’d taken it out of spite.

When she woke up, her shy smile and hesitant touch broke something in me. For the first time, I felt like I owed someone.

I pulled out my black card and pressed it into her hand. “I’ve got you,” I said, surprised I actually meant it.

She looked at me with so much hope I couldn’t let her down. “There’s a Black family dinner tonight. Get yourself something nice and come with me.”