Overbearing CEO's Contract Love
Chapter 185: Going Upstairs to Change Clothes

Chapter 185: Going Upstairs to Change Clothes

Furrowing her brows, Emma Hart turned around, puzzled at the sudden disappearance of the man who was just amidst the crowd moments ago.

Shrugging it off, she thought perhaps he had wandered off somewhere. No matter, she decided to let it go.

However, before she knew it, Oliver Westmore stood before her, his gaze filled with intrigue and contemplation, as if brewing a storm of emotions silently as he looked straight into Emma’s eyes, full of questions.

Emma was not oblivious to Oliver’s intentions. It would have been truly surprising if she hadn’t sensed even a hint of his feelings.

"Emma..." Oliver’s voice carried a gravity, a seriousness as he locked eyes with her.

With just one glance at Oliver, Emma sensed trouble brewing. She dreaded he might declare his feelings, something she felt unprepared to handle. Not just for her sake, but the repercussions from Damien Sterling finding out were unimaginable.

"Emma..." Oliver’s hand gently rested on Emma’s arm, turning her towards him.

Her attempt to turn away was effortlessly countered by his pull.

Trying to mask her discomfort with a forced smile, Emma jested, hoping to lighten the mood, "Maybe...you could use another drink, or perhaps find someone to dance with? Do you have other matters to attend to? You..."

"None of that! Not at all!" Oliver’s voice unexpectedly rose, and then, with a hint of embarrassment, he lowered his head, softly murmuring after a moment, "Emma, I’m sorry."

Emma managed an awkward laugh in response, accustomed to much louder expressions from Damien, the kind that could practically rupture eardrums with their intensity.

"Why does it have to be him?" Oliver finally spoke up after a pause.

Emma caught the endless tenderness and loneliness in his eyes, wondering if she had unwittingly caused such sorrow. A pang of sadness hit her, realizing the pain might indeed be of her making. Yet, she found herself at a loss for words to his question about "him," knowing all too well he referred to Damien Sterling.

Emma couldn’t agree with Oliver’s implication, feeling trapped not by choice but by circumstance.

Damien Sterling had intruded into her once peaceful life, and now there was no turning back.

Acceptance had begun to seep in for Emma, realizing time could not be reversed.

Keeping her distance from Oliver and avoiding further entanglements in her already complicated and chaotic life seemed the only prudent course of action. "I...I have something to take care of, I must go..."

As Emma Hart prepared to leave, she had barely taken a step before Oliver Westmore grasped her arm, pulling her back abruptly.

Already off balance, Emma stumbled backward with a start.

A sharp "sssst" sound echoed as she caught her dress. To her dismay, the fabric had caught on a nearby table during the motion, transforming her elegant dress into one with a high slit.

Emma stared in shock at her dress and the expanse of her pale thigh it revealed. "My skin does look good," she mused briefly before panicking. This was hardly the time for such thoughts!

In a flurry, Emma tried to cover herself, mortified at her predicament. How was she supposed to manage now? Bending over was not an option, and she lamented the poor quality of such an expensive garment.

Behind her, Oliver, seeing her distress, took off his suit jacket and draped it over Emma’s legs. Grateful for any cover, Emma didn’t hesitate to accept.

"Thank you," she murmured, her lips tight with embarrassment and a slight flush on her cheeks. The idea of another man seeing her thighs was far from ideal.

"I’ll take you upstairs to change," Oliver suggested.

Emma looked at him, puzzled about where he would find clothes. Surely, he wasn’t suggesting women’s clothing?

Oliver, noticing her concern, explained, "A female companion brought extra dresses. Your sizes seem similar; one should fit you."

Emma glanced down at her ruined dress and then at Oliver, her gaze inadvertently drifting toward the crowd where Damien Sterling stood, feeling uneasy.

"I’ll give you a room card. I’ll wait outside," Oliver said, easing Emma’s worries.

It was just a quick change of clothes, she reasoned, unable to meet anyone in her current state.

Nodding, Emma thanked him again, prompting Oliver to sigh and chuckle, "Emma, when will you stop thanking me?"

Meanwhile, Damien Sterling was pushing through the crowd in the banquet hall, searching for Emma. His brow furrowed in frustration, even deterring someone who approached to offer a drink, who retreated at the sight of Damien’s icy demeanor.

That infuriating woman, always slipping away, growing bolder by the day and now wandering from his side.

In the hotel corridor.

Sophia Greenwood, having changed her attire, was about to step out of her room when, around the corner, she laid eyes on two familiar figures. Her gaze sharpened in surprise at the sight of Emma Hart and Oliver Westmore together. What could possibly bring these two into each other’s orbit?

With a swift flicker in her eyes, Sophia quickly sidestepped back into her room, concealing herself while she observed the pair from a distance.

Not far off, Oliver Westmore was swiping his card to unlock a door. Emma Hart hurried inside as Oliver handed her the card, saying, "Your clothes are in the wardrobe."

"Thank you," Emma replied, a note of apology lacing her voice. She detested the feeling of being indebted to someone, finding material debts repayable but emotional investments, like Oliver’s generosity towards her, impossibly burdensome. Emma was at a loss for how to reciprocate Oliver’s emotional investment.

Inside, Emma roamed the room in search of the clothes Oliver mentioned. Failing to locate them, she approached the door, questioning, "I can’t seem to find the clothes?"

"Should be in the wardrobe, aren’t they?" Oliver responded, puzzled. As he turned, he thought he caught a glimpse of a shadow darting away from the door, but the figure vanished too quickly to be identified.

His brows furrowed in thought.

"I really can’t find them," Emma persisted from inside, receiving no answer. Pressing closer to the door, she repeated, "Where are they, Oliver Westmore? Are you still there?"

Finally, Oliver’s attention returned, "Yes, I’m here... Maybe I should come in and help you look? You step out, and I’ll search for them. Once found, you can go back in."

After a moment’s consideration, Emma agreed, trusting Oliver wouldn’t overstep. She didn’t regard herself as so overwhelmingly attractive as to render a man incapable of restraint.

"Alright, come in and look," she said, preparing to step out so Oliver could enter and search. As she opened the door and was about to turn and close it behind her, Emma caught a fleeting glimpse of the man’s quarter-profile from around the corner!

Her breath hitched, and she swiftly turned back, slamming the door shut with a loud bang.

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