When Contracts Turn to Forbidden Kisses Chapter 66

Amelia

I watched Olivia's tears stream down her face as she sat hunched on the couch. Her usual sparkle was gone, replaced by genuine fear about her pregnancy. Something shifted inside me as I held her hand. Comfort wasn't enough—not anymore. A sudden idea struck me with crystal clarity.

"Wait here," I told Olivia, squeezing her shoulder gently before standing up. My mind was already racing ahead, focused on a single name: Ashley.

I strode toward the study, my footsteps purposeful against the hardwood floor. Opening my laptop, I logged into a private browser and typed in a URL I'd memorized years ago but never used. Olivia shuffled in behind me, sniffling.

"What are you doing?" she asked, voice thick with tears. "Can it wait? I'm kind of having a meltdown here."

I didn't look up, my fingers flying across the keyboard as the site loaded—black background with minimalist red text: [Manhattan Exposé] My lips curled into a cold smile.

"Extending justice," I said, "my way."

Olivia leaned over my shoulder, peering at the screen with confusion etched across her tear-stained face. "TruthSeeker? GotchaGuy? What the hell is this?"

I pushed my chair back slightly, making room for her to see better. "This is 'Manhattan Exposé'—a private network that accepts investigation and exposure assignments." My voice was steady, almost clinical. "People who want dirt dug up but don't want their hands dirty submit requests here."

"And you know about this... how?" Olivia's eyes widened.

"Grandfather William told me about it before he died." I navigated through the site with practiced ease despite never having used it. "He said sometimes conventional justice fails, and we need... alternatives."

Olivia's jaw dropped. "Your sweet old grandfather knew about an underground gossip mercenary site?"

"William Thompson wasn't just sweet," I said with a hint of pride. "He was strategic."

I clicked on a profile marked simply "Phantom." The page showed minimal details: highest success rate, lowest acceptance rate, premium pricing.

"This is who we want," I explained. "The most mysterious operative on the site. They barely take any jobs, but when they do—" I snapped my fingers, "—bullseye, every time."

Olivia's tears had stopped, replaced by fascination. "And they'll help us get back at Ashley and Emily?"

"If they accept." I cracked my knuckles and began typing two separate requests.

The first: [Emily Thompson's private affairs exposed on social media. Basic difficulty. $5,000.]

The second: [Evidence of Ashley Randal's intimate relationship with the finance project manager. Basic difficulty. $5,000.]

"Ten thousand dollars?" Olivia gasped. "That's a lot of money for some gossip."

I shrugged. "If no one takes it, I'll increase the offer." But even as I spoke, a notification pinged. My eyebrows shot up in genuine surprise.

"Phantom accepted both requests," I whispered, almost to myself. "That's... unexpected."

"Is that good?" Olivia asked.

"It's unprecedented." I quickly confirmed the job details, my fingers trembling slightly with excitement. "Phantom's agreeing to deliver within 24 hours."

I submitted payment for half the fee, watching as Phantom's confirmation appeared: [Consider it done.]

"Ten thousand dollars is nothing if it works," I murmured. "I'd pay fifty thousand without blinking."

Closing the laptop, I stood up, suddenly remembering the dinner I'd been preparing. "Let's finish making food. I need to chop those vegetables."

Back in the kitchen, I picked up my knife and resumed slicing bell peppers with surgical precision. The rhythmic chopping was oddly soothing. Olivia appeared in the doorway, tying an apron around her waist.

"What do you need me to do?" she asked, her voice steadier now.

I looked up, one eyebrow raised. "You? Cook?"

"I can help," she insisted, looking almost offended.

I gently pushed her toward the door. "You'll just distract me. Go rest—doctor's orders."

"You're an OB-GYN, not a chef," she protested.

"And yet I'm still more qualified in both areas than you are in either," I teased, returning to my vegetables.

Alone in the kitchen, I continued preparing our Italian pasta with fresh herbs and a side salad. The familiar routine of cooking centered me, providing a counterbalance to the vengeful scheme I'd just set in motion. For the first time in days, I felt something like control returning.

Olivia pushed the door open again just as I was tossing the pasta in sauce. "How much food are you making?"

I paused, knife suspended over a mushroom. "Why? Is someone coming over?"

Her hesitation told me everything. "Julian might stop by," she admitted. "I called him. I don't want my mother finding out about the baby, and I need to tell him first."

I considered our food situation. "Should be enough. I'll add some extra shrimp and mushrooms."

Twenty minutes later, the doorbell rang. I wiped my hands on a dishcloth and glanced toward Olivia's room, where she'd retreated claiming a headache.

"Your brother's here," I called out. "You should go greet him."

"Can't," came her muffled reply. "Headache. Terrible. Possibly dying."

I sighed, closing the laptop where I'd been checking for updates from Phantom. "Coward," I muttered, heading for the door.

Julian stood in the hallway, his normally perfect hair dotted with water droplets, shoulders of his tailored jacket damp.

"Is it raining?" I asked, surprised.

"Just started," he replied, running a hand through his hair. "Caught me walking from the parking garage."

I grabbed a dry towel from the nearby linen closet and handed it to him. "Here, let me help." Without thinking, I stepped behind him to dab at the wet back of his jacket. "It's coming down hard?"

"Mm-hmm," he hummed, then looked around. "Where's my dramatic sister? She sounded desperate on the phone."

I stepped back, suddenly realizing how domestic my gesture had been. "Uh... she said she has a headache..."

Julian's eyes narrowed suspiciously. He took a deep breath and bellowed toward the bedrooms: "Olivia Bennett! You have one minute to get out here, or you'll regret it!"

I winced at the volume but couldn't help the small smile tugging at my lips. Whatever Julian had planned for his sister, I suspected she deserved it.