When Contracts Turn to Forbidden Kisses Chapter 45

Amelia

Manhattan’s night wrapped around us as we walked up to the Thompson brownstone. Sleek luxury cars lined the street, their owners already inside celebrating my dad’s birthday—a party I never wanted to come to.

Olivia adjusted her black gown next to me, while I smoothed down my own outfit—a black dress with a black jacket. Together, we stood out sharply against the sea of colorful designer dresses visible through the windows.

“We look like we’re going to a funeral dressed like this,” Olivia joked, pulling out her iPhone to snap a quick picture. “A stylish one, but still.”

“That’s the point,” I said, trying to sound steadier than I felt. This wasn’t just some social event—it felt like walking into a trap.

Olivia’s fingers flew over her screen. “Caption: ‘Black and white — it’s an attitude.’” She grinned as the likes and comments started pouring in. “Internet agrees.”

I squared my shoulders and stepped inside what used to be my home. The familiar scent of polished wood and expensive perfume hit me like a punch, flooding me with memories of better times—before Mom died and Robert remarried.

We barely got past the foyer when Emily appeared, her smile so fake it made my skin crawl.

“Sis, you finally decided to show up,” she said sweetly, but her eyes were sharp and calculating.

Margaret appeared behind her like a shadow. “Amelia, come sit with us! We’re all family here.” The warmth in her voice didn’t reach her eyes.

I brushed past them without a word and headed straight for the stairs. I needed a moment alone before facing the circus downstairs. Mom’s old room was mostly untouched—the only place in this house Margaret hadn’t managed to take over.

Sitting at Mom’s vanity, I tried to calm myself. Just get through tonight without losing it. As I adjusted my earrings, one pearl stud slipped from my fingers and rolled under an antique pearwood cabinet.

“Great,” I muttered, kneeling awkwardly in my dress to reach for it.

Instead of the earring, my fingers touched something else—a small, worn leather pouch. Curious, I pulled it out and held it up to the light. The leather was cracked with age. Inside was a faded sachet that gave off a faint, familiar scent—something just out of reach in my memory.

“Amelia?” Olivia’s voice came from the doorway. “Dinner’s starting. If you don’t come down soon, the food’s gonna get cold. Not that I’d mind seeing Margaret’s face get even sourer.”

I slipped the pouch into my jacket pocket. “Coming.”

Downstairs, Felix slid into the seat beside me, his cologne overpowering as he leaned in too close.

“Sister-in-law, you look absolutely stunning tonight,” he said, eyes lingering on me before flicking toward Olivia.

Before I could tell him where to shove his compliment, Olivia smoothly switched seats with me, putting herself between us.

“Don’t bother the doctor,” she said with a smile that was friendly but firm. “She’s off duty tonight.”

An elderly butler offered champagne. Olivia accepted and took a sip. I just nodded and left my glass untouched.

Robert took center stage, wrapping his arm possessively around Margaret’s waist. “While today is my birthday celebration,” he said with practiced charm, “I want to thank my wonderful wife, Margaret.”

He announced a new family foundation with Margaret as executive director. Polite applause followed, but I caught several guests exchanging knowing looks.

“What a show,” Olivia whispered.

“Just another day at the Thompson theater,” I said coldly, watching Robert kiss Margaret for the cameras. My stomach churned. “I need some air.”

In the bathroom, I noticed a strange smell—subtle but off. My head started to spin slightly. My medical instincts screamed that something was wrong.

I hurried back to the main hall just as the lights flickered and went out. Guests murmured in confusion, some moving toward the exits. Through the dim emergency lights, I spotted Olivia—her face flushed, eyes glassy.

“I feel weird,” she whispered when I reached her. “Hot... my head’s heavy. Everything’s blurry.” Her words slurred.

Was it the drink? No, I didn't even touch the champagne. Could it be... that strange smell in the bathroom?

“We need to get out. Now.” I supported her as we moved toward the door.

Emily stepped in front of us, her smile openly cruel now. “Leaving so soon, sis? Don’t you want to stay for the surprise I planned just for you?”

The threat was clear. All of this is Emily's trap.

I turned to Olivia and handed her my phone.

“Call someone to help,” I whispered. “I’ll be right behind you.”

Olivia nodded weakly and stumbled toward the door while I faced Emily.

Felix staggered over, eyes bloodshot, clearly affected by whatever was going around. “You know,” he slurred, “Ethan doesn’t appreciate what he has... he doesn’t know how lucky he is...”

I jabbed my elbow into his chest. He stumbled but quickly recovered, a predatory gleam in his eyes.

From the shadows, Emily watched, phone ready to record, a cold smile on her lips. Margaret was elsewhere, distracting Robert. “Honey, check the fuse box. The guests are getting restless.”

I could feel the drug starting to take hold—my limbs heavy. Years of self-defense training kept me alert despite the fog creeping in.

Felix moved closer again. “Sister-in-law, don’t push me away... I appreciate you more than Ethan ever could...”

With what strength I had left, I slapped him hard. “Get away from me! Don’t touch me!” My voice was weaker than I wanted, my body betraying me as heat surged through my veins.

In desperation, Ethan’s face flashed in my mind—his stern look, those eyes that always seemed to see right through me. The heat inside me grew stronger.

“I want to see him... Why now?” I thought bitterly, fear rising.

Felix lunged, grabbing at my dress. I pushed back weakly, fading fast. Just as his hands reached me, the doors burst open.

I closed my eyes, bracing for the worst. When nothing happened, I opened them slowly to see a familiar face through the haze.

“E... Ethan?” I whispered, unsure if he was real or a hallucination.

My vision blurred, but I felt myself being lifted. The scent of his cologne surrounded me, and I instinctively leaned in, my arms wrapping around his neck.

Through the fog, I heard Ethan’s voice, cold as ice: “Felix, we’ll settle this at home. Noah, you take Olivia back.”

My last clear thought was confusion—how did Ethan find me here? And why did I feel so safe in his arms?

But then, a sudden warmth spread through me, deeper and more intense than the drug’s fog. It wasn’t just relief or gratitude—it was something raw, uncontrollable. My breath hitched as my body reacted in ways I couldn’t stop. The pounding in my veins wasn’t just fear or adrenaline anymore.

I looked up at Ethan, his face sharp and steady in the dim light, and something inside me twisted. A fierce, aching need I hadn’t expected—one that made my skin tingle and my heart race. My hands tightened around his neck, pulling him closer, as if I couldn’t get enough of him.

“Ethan...” I whispered, voice trembling, “I don’t know what’s happening to me.”

He blinked, surprise flickering in his eyes, but didn’t pull away.

A strange, restless heat rose from the bottom of my heart, consuming my sanity.