When Contracts Turn to Forbidden Kisses Chapter 63

Ethan

I adjusted my custom blue suit jacket as I entered the Manhattan Convention Center, feeling the weight of every step. Noah and James followed behind me. The bidding event was crucial for Black Investment Group, but my mind kept wandering to other matters – specifically, to one person.

"Dude, your wife is here," Noah whispered, leaning closer as we walked through the entrance hall. "Why didn't you tell us she'd be attending?"

James immediately corrected him. "Ex-wife."

That single word – "ex" – stabbed like a shard of glass in my chest. Yes, she was my ex-wife now. Our contract marriage had ended. The papers were signed. It was over.

"So you really did end things?" Noah continued, curiosity gleaming in his eyes. "I thought maybe the rumors were just—"

James shot Noah a warning glare, silently telling him to read the room. But his next words made my stomach drop.

"Julian has been sending Liam to look into that medical talent exchange program – the one at New York Central Hospital," James said, his voice low but every word crystal clear. "Your ex-wife might be headed to Boston."

Boston? When the hell did this happen? Why was she going to Boston? Was she running away because our contract ended, or was it because of Julian Bennett?

I saw her across the room, sitting with Olivia and Julian. She looked stunning in a gold dress that brought out the color of her eyes. Without thinking, I turned in another direction.

"Ethan, the seats are over there," James called after me, but I ignored him.

I made my way directly to Amelia and sat down in the empty chair beside her. Her perfume hit me immediately – that subtle, intoxicating scent I'd grown accustomed to waking up to. Not anymore.

She turned, surprise quickly morphing into annoyance. "There are plenty of other seats available," she said, her voice clipped.

I settled into the chair, keeping my expression neutral. "I sit wherever I want to."

The lights dimmed suddenly, cutting off whatever retort she was about to deliver. The spotlight focused on the stage, and a familiar figure walked into view.

Ashley.

What the fuck was she doing here? She stood at the podium in a perfectly tailored Chanel suit, makeup flawless, smiling like she'd rehearsed it a thousand times.

"Welcome to today's bidding event," her voice echoed through the sound system.

I felt Olivia shift uncomfortably beside Amelia. "An opera singer hosting a bidding event? Isn't that lowering the professional standards?" she muttered, loud enough for me to hear.

Julian quickly nudged his sister. "Mind the setting," he whispered.

So I wasn't the only one surprised by Ashley's appearance. How had she maneuvered herself into this position? Who was backing her?

As Ashley droned on about procedures and introductions, I noticed Amelia and Olivia exchanging texts. I couldn't help myself – I angled slightly to catch a glimpse of Amelia's screen.

Olivia had written: [I bet she slept with someone to host this meeting.]

Amelia replied: [Why are you so gossipy? You always focus on this stuff.]

Olivia: [Aren't you going to get back at her? After what she did to you.]

My pulse quickened. Get back at her? What revenge was Amelia planning? Was it about Ashley drugging her at that party?

Amelia's response made my heart race even faster: [Of course I will. Our contract marriage is over, so what's stopping me now? I don't care if she's someone's first love anymore!]

First love... Was she referring to Ashley as my first love?

I clenched my jaw, a storm of emotions brewing inside me. Is that why she believed I'd been protecting Ashley all this time?

The bidding presentations dragged on, but I barely registered any of it. My thoughts were consumed by Amelia's texts, by the realization that she'd misunderstood so much about my past, about my feelings.

"After careful consideration by the evaluation committee, the winning bid goes to... Black Investment Group!"

Ashley's announcement snapped me back to reality. Polite applause filled the room. I stood and nodded in acknowledgment, but felt none of the satisfaction I should have.

James leaned over. "Congratulations."

I nodded mechanically. Winning the bid had been practically guaranteed – our proposal was superior in every way. But my eyes drifted toward Amelia.

She was consoling Julian, her hand on his arm, her expression so genuinely concerned for his disappointment that it sent a wave of jealousy through me.

After the formal announcements concluded, Benjamin Astor approached me with an extended hand. "Congratulations, Ethan. I hope we can work together in the future."

I shook his hand firmly. "Thank you. I look forward to future cooperation."

As people began filtering out of the hall, I noticed Amelia sitting alone in the corner, checking her phone. A sudden impulse seized me – I needed to talk to her.

I pulled out my phone and sent her a text: [Wait. We need to talk.]

Minutes passed. No response. Growing impatient, I called her directly. I watched as she picked up her phone, then turned to scan the room until our eyes met.

"Come outside. We need to talk," I said, my tone more commanding than I'd intended.

I hung up before she could respond. But she didn't move from her seat, showing no intention of following my request. The blatant dismissal fueled something irrational inside me.

I strode across the room, ignoring the stares from those around us. When I reached her, I grabbed her wrist. The feel of her skin against mine sent electricity up my arm.

"What are you doing?" she asked, eyes wide with alarm.

Without saying anything, I pulled her into the hotel corridor, away from prying eyes and ears. When we reached a quiet section, I released her wrist and took a deep breath, trying to organize my thoughts.

"Are you with Julian now?" The question burst out before I could stop it. Immediately, I regretted it. I had no right to ask. Our contract marriage was over. Her personal life was no longer my concern.

She yanked her arm free, her eyes turning cold. "How is that any of your business?"

"Are you going to Boston to avoid me?" I pressed, ignoring her increasingly hostile expression. The rational part of my brain was screaming at me to stop this pointless interrogation, but I couldn't help myself.

"Ethan Black, have you lost your mind?" Her voice rose several notches. "Our contract is over. I don't need to report my life decisions to you!"

She shoved past me, walking away with purposeful strides.

I stood in the corridor, watching her retreating figure, feeling a chaotic mix of emotions. I'd thought I could handle this contract relationship perfectly, separating feelings from duty. But now it seemed I was losing control.

I ran a hand through my hair, wondering when exactly I'd started caring so much about where Amelia Thompson went, what she did, and who she was with. And why the thought of her leaving for Boston left me feeling so completely, utterly lost.