When Contracts Turn to Forbidden Kisses Chapter 90

Ethan

Three years of searching, hoping, planning—all derailed in seconds by Ashley's perfectly timed entrance.

I could feel my heart pounding; every memory of betrayal flooded back as I saw her again.

The rage I'd been suppressing boiled over. I turned to Ashley, who stood there with that practiced innocent expression, her eyes already welling with tears.

"Why do you insist on challenging my boundaries?" My voice was deadly quiet. The calm before the storm. "What the hell do you think you're doing, Ashley?"

"Ethan, please—" She reached for my arm, but I stepped back.

"Don't." The word sliced through the air between us. "Don't even try to touch me."

Tears spilled down her cheeks. I looked at her, unmoved. Those tears were weapons, just like her lies.

"I'm sorry, Ethan. I didn't know she was here." Her voice trembled. "I just wanted to see you. To explain—"

"Explain what? How you lied to Amelia about me having another family? How you've systematically destroyed any chance I had at fixing things with Amelia?"

She dropped to her knees, a theatrical gesture that made my jaw clench. "Please forgive me, Ethan. Tell me what I can do to make this right. I'll do anything."

I looked down at her, this woman who had once been Noah's fiancée, who had manipulated her way through Manhattan's social circles. The woman who had single-handedly created the rift between Amelia and me with her carefully crafted lies.

"Pack your bags, Ashley. There's a medical aid program in Haiti that needs volunteers. You're leaving tonight, and you're never setting foot in Manhattan again."

Her face went pale. "Haiti? You can't be serious. My career, my life is here—"

"You should have thought about that before you decided to play games with my life."

She clutched the edge of my hospital gown, her desperation turning to panic. "I'll talk to Amelia. I'll explain everything—tell her how I lied, how I tried to break up your marriage—"

The idea of her anywhere near Amelia again made something snap inside me. I grabbed her wrist, yanking her to her feet.

"You've already caused enough damage," I snarled. "Stay the hell away from Amelia!"

"When I found out you drugged her that night, I gave you the evidence and warned you to back off." The memory of sending Ashley the photos, trading with that old woman, flashed through my mind. I thought it would be enough to scare her into leaving Amelia alone. "But you just kept playing your little games, didn't you?"

The thought of Amelia believing I was somehow in league with Ashley made my chest feel like it was being crushed. "You've ruined everything."

"Ethan," Michael's voice came from behind me. "Let her go. She's not worth it."

I released Ashley's wrist, suddenly aware of how tightly I'd been gripping it. She collapsed back to her knees, sobbing uncontrollably.

"Ethan, I love you," she cried. "I just wanted to be the only one in your life..."

"Get her out of here," I told Michael, turning away. I couldn't bear to look at her anymore.

Michael nodded and helped Ashley to her feet, guiding her toward the door. Her sobs echoed down the hallway long after they'd disappeared.

I sank back onto the hospital bed, the adrenaline draining away, leaving nothing but exhaustion and regret.

---

Later that afternoon, Noah arrived, his usually carefree expression replaced with shock after Michael filled him in.

"You're sending Ashley to Haiti?" He whistled low. "That's pretty harsh, even for you."

I stared out the window, watching the city lights begin to flicker on as dusk settled over Manhattan. "She told Amelia I had her child. That's why Amelia left three years ago—why she's stayed away."

Noah dropped into the visitor's chair. "Shit."

"Yeah."

"But why didn't you just explain everything to Amelia back then? When you found out what Ashley had done?"

The question hung in the air, and I had no good answer. Pride? Anger? The mission? All excuses that seemed hollow now. I'd been too caught up in my own righteousness, too convinced that Amelia should have trusted me, to see what was right in front of me.

"I fucked up," I finally said. "I was angry that she would believe that of me. That she'd run instead of confronting me."

Noah nodded slowly. "So what's the plan now? How are you going to fix this mess?"

"I don't know." I ran a hand through my hair. "She won't talk to me. She's blocked my number again, won't respond to messages..."

"Maybe you need to start from scratch," Noah suggested. "Clear up the Ashley misunderstanding first, then work on winning her back."

I frowned. "How am I supposed to do that when she won't even speak to me?"

"Olivia," Noah said simply. "She's Amelia's best friend, right? I could reach out, maybe arrange something..."

For the first time in days, I felt a flicker of hope. "You think she'd help?"

"I can be very persuasive." Noah grinned. "Plus, Olivia and I have... history. She might be willing to at least hear me out."

I considered it. Olivia had always been protective of Amelia, but she was also direct and pragmatic. If anyone could get through to Amelia, it would be her.

"Whatever it takes," I said. "If you can get Olivia to help me talk to Amelia, I'll give Randal Films first look at financing for your next project."

Noah's eyebrows shot up. "Must be love if you're throwing around investment offers like that."

I didn't deny it. After three years of searching, after finally finding her only to lose her again, I was done playing games. I wanted—needed—Amelia back in my life.

"Just make it happen," I said. "Tell Olivia all about Ashley's lies, and she’ll definitely tell Amelia."

Noah nodded, suddenly serious. "I'll try, man. I'll try. The rest is up to you."

I nodded in return, looking at the bandage on my arm—Amelia hadn't had time to stick it properly. I pressed my hand against it, hoping the wound would heal quickly.