When Contracts Turn to Forbidden Kisses Chapter 57

Ethan

I slammed the door to my room, my pulse hammering in my throat. My fingers were already dialing James's number, each ring amplifying my anger.

"You better pick up," I muttered, pacing across the hardwood floor. When his voice finally came through, I didn't waste time on pleasantries.

"What the hell did you tell her?" My voice cut like steel.

"Ethan?" James sounded genuinely confused. "What are you talking about?"

"Amelia. What did you tell her about Ashley being the one who drugged her?"

"Nothing." His response was immediate and firm. "I haven't spoken to Amelia for a long time. Why would you think—"

"She knows, James. She knows Ashley was behind it, and I sure as hell didn't tell her."

A beat of silence followed. "Well, it wasn't me. Maybe Ashley confessed? You know how she loves creating drama."

"Contact all the landlords in this area and make sure they do not rent the house to Amelia," I demanded before hanging up.

I then dialed Michael next.

"Find out who she met with today," I ordered the moment he answered.

"Already on it, sir. I've been tracking her movements since the last time." Michael's efficiency was one of his best qualities. "I'll have a full report by morning."

My phone buzzed with an incoming message. I opened it to find a photo of Amelia and Julian Bennett sitting at a corner table in some restaurant. Their heads were close together, their expressions serious. Julian's hand rested just inches from hers on the table.

'Son of a bitch,' I growled, my grip tightening around the phone.

“Why Julian? Why now?” The jealousy twisted inside me, bitter and raw.

"Sir? What's going on?" Michael's voice reminded me he was still on the line.

"I just received a picture of Amelia having dinner with Julian Bennett. Find out everything—who they were with, what they discussed, when she left."

"Yes, sir."

I ended the call and tossed my phone onto the couch, running both hands through my hair. The photo shouldn't bother me. Seeing her with Julian stirred something visceral in me, something I wasn't ready to name.

---

I stayed up all night, trying to figure out how to deal with Amelia’s decision. Just as Amelia was opening her door, I stepped into the hallway. We froze, only about five feet apart, with the air between us thick with things left unsaid.

Her eyes met mine briefly before sliding away. I noticed the shadows beneath them, the slight pallor of her skin. She looked exhausted, but still beautiful in that effortless way that always caught me off guard.

“I want to ask you everything,”

 I thought, but the words stuck in my throat.

Neither of us spoke. What was there to say? She adjusted her bag on her shoulder and walked toward the elevator. I watched her go, my chest tight with something that felt dangerously close to regret.

---

"The dinner wasn't just the two of them," Michael reported later that morning, standing in front of my desk at Black Investment Group. "Bennett's sister Olivia was there, along with his assistant. It was a group outing."

Relief washed through me, though I kept my expression neutral. "What did they discuss?"

"From what our sources could gather, mostly personal matters."

"What about Elizabeth Thompson?" I changed the subject, needing to refocus on the investigation.

Michael opened a folder. "That's where it gets interesting. Elizabeth wasn't born a Thompson. She was adopted at age eight after being found in the foster system. Birth parents unknown."

"Adopted by whom?"

"The Thompsons were her third foster family. They legally adopted her and gave her their name. What's significant is that after Elizabeth married Robert Thompson, her adoptive father transferred a substantial amount of money to the Thompson family business, which was facing bankruptcy at the time."

I frowned, pieces of a puzzle shifting in my mind. "So the money that saved the Thompson empire came from Elizabeth's adoptive father? Who was he?"

"That's what we're still investigating. Records are sealed, but we're working on it."

"Keep digging. And Michael—" I paused, choosing my words carefully. "I need you to verify Emily Thompson's parentage. Find out if she's actually Robert's biological daughter."

Michael nodded, understanding the implications. "And any connections to Viktor Group?"

"Absolutely. That's our priority."

---

The apartment was silent when I returned that evening. I had hoped—foolishly perhaps—that Amelia might be there. I checked my watch: 8:42 PM. She was likely still at the hospital.

Without fully admitting to myself what I was doing, I found myself outside her bedroom door. I hesitated only a moment before entering.

Her room smelled faintly of her—that clean, floral scent that sometimes lingered in the hallway after she'd passed through. I scanned the space: her medical textbooks stacked neatly on the desk, her easel in the corner with a half-finished painting, the bed made with military precision.

My eyes caught on something in the corner of her closet—a small, ornate wooden box. I immediately recognized it... and suddenly remembered that I had reported a potential lead about Elizabeth's belongings to my superior, and he had advised me to follow up. Could it be this music box?

I carefully lifted it, turning it over in my hands. According to Amelia, it had stopped playing music after Elizabeth died. Amelia had mentioned once that her mother loved the melancholy tune it played.

“If this box holds secrets, it could change everything. But showing it to Amelia now... would only put her in danger.”

What if it wasn’t just a keepsake? What if Elizabeth, sensing danger, hid evidence inside—proof of Viktor Group’s money laundering?

I slipped the music box under my arm. I needed to check it out carefully, away from Amelia’s eyes. If I’m right, this could be the key to cracking the case—and finally understanding what happened to Elizabeth Thompson.

Closing her bedroom door behind me, I felt like I’d crossed a line. But in my world, lines get crossed when justice is on the line.

And maybe, just maybe, the truth would set us both free.