When Contracts Turn to Forbidden Kisses Chapter 42

Noah

I watched the two figures disappearing into the distance, a complicated mix of emotions bubbling up inside me.

Julian and Amelia looked so natural together, walking side by side among the gravestones. Something about their easy familiarity bothered me more than it should have.

"Noah, that woman's attitude was absolutely dreadful," Ashley complained, fussing with her hair that the wind had tousled. "She didn't even bother to say hello to us. Not a shred of courtesy. I don't understand what Julian sees in someone like that."

I frowned at my sister. "Ashley, don't judge people you barely know. You have no idea what's going on in her life, so keep your opinions to yourself."

My tone was sharper than intended, but Ashley's highbrow attitude always rubbed me the wrong way. She had this perpetual air of superiority that made me want to knock her down a peg or two.

"Besides, you haven't visited Grandpa's grave in what—three years? Why the sudden interest now?" I asked, studying her face carefully.

Ashley's expression flickered momentarily, her eyes darting away from mine.

According to Randal family tradition, all descendants were expected to pay respects on our grandfather's death anniversary. Yet Ashley always managed to conjure up some excuse to skip it. Her appearance today was suspicious at best.

"I was Grandpa's favorite, after all," she said evasively. "It seemed appropriate to come back and visit."

Her gaze drifted toward the direction Julian and Amelia had gone, and I caught something calculating in her eyes—a look I recognized all too well from boardroom negotiations. Something was definitely up, and I made a mental note to keep an eye on her motives.

When Grandfather was still alive, he'd always had a soft spot for Ashley. Originally named Ashley Miller, she was my uncle's daughter. Grandfather had taken such a liking to her that he'd officially adopted her into the Randal family, changing her surname and significantly boosting my uncle's business prospects in the process. This history of favoritism had always made Ashley insufferably entitled.

---

After leaving the cemetery, Ashley insisted on going to a nearby restaurant she hadn't visited in a long time for a meal. It was there, just as I was heading to the bathroom, my eyes caught a familiar silhouette in a semi-private dining area.

Curiosity piqued, I followed the sound until I reached a semi-private dining area. Through the partially open door, I witnessed a scene that made my heart skip a beat.

Julian was meticulously peeling shrimp for a woman, his movements gentle and practiced, with a level of devotion that was almost intimate. The way he focused on the task, you'd think he was handling precious gems instead of seafood.

No fucking way. Is that Amelia?

I shifted my position to get a better look, and sure enough, there she was. My pulse quickened at the bombshell discovery.

Julian placed the peeled shrimp on a rotating plate, then turned it smoothly until it reached Amelia. She accepted his offering with a warm smile, as if this was their regular routine. The scene looked so damn domestic.

My mind raced with possibilities. Was Ethan getting played? Or was Amelia simply securing her next landing spot before the three-month contract expired? Either way, this juicy tidbit was too good to keep to myself.

A smirk, I couldn't suppress, played on my lips. The gossip hound in me was practically salivating.

Ashley looked up from her phone. "Noah, what's wrong with you? You look like you've seen a ghost—or worse, spotted an ex."

"Nothing's wrong," I replied, struggling to maintain my composure. "Just witnessed a fascinating little play, that's all." I quickly settled our bill, eager to make my exit and share this development with Ethan.

---

Sitting in my car, I couldn't dial Ethan's number fast enough. My fingers practically trembled with anticipation.

"Ethan, big news again," I announced when he picked up, not bothering with pleasantries. "Julian Bennett is back in town."

My voice was practically buzzing with the news. Last time I mentioned Ashley to him, he was indifferent. I wasn't sure if this news would break his composure.

"And?" Ethan's voice came through cold and disinterested. "How is that relevant to me?"

Despite his calm tone, I detected a subtle tension. That tiny strain in his voice told me everything I needed to know—he was paying attention.

"I saw him at the cemetery with Amelia. They were visiting William's grave together," I continued, baiting the hook.

The line went dead silent. I could practically feel the temperature drop through the phone. I savored the moment, picturing Ethan's usually composed face twisting with poorly concealed jealousy.

"Your contract is almost up, isn't it?" I lowered my voice conspiratorially. "Seems like Amelia's already lined up her next prospect. Julian's being quite the attentive gentleman—hand-feeding her peeled shrimp at lunch, treating her with the kind of tenderness that screams 'we're more than friends.'"

Still silence on Ethan's end, but I knew he was there. I could almost hear the gears turning in his head, could almost see his knuckles turning white as he gripped the phone.

"The way he looked at her... man, that wasn't just friendly concern. And she was eating it up—literally and figuratively." I laid it on thick, enjoying the drama I was creating.

When Ethan finally spoke, his voice was controlled but cold enough to freeze hell over. "Is that all, Noah?"

"Just thought you should know," I replied innocently. "As your friend and all. Wouldn't want you getting blindsided."

After hanging up, I sat back in my leather seat with a satisfied smile. I'd thrown the match—now it was just a matter of watching how big the fire would grow. Ethan might act all stoic and unaffected, but I'd known him long enough to recognize when something—or someone—had gotten under his skin.

And Amelia Thompson had definitely crawled under there and made herself at home.

I started my car, wondering how this little triangle would play out.

Would Ethan fight for her? Would he let his pride get in the way? Or would he realize that what had started as a business arrangement had somehow become something more?