Overbearing CEO's Contract Love
Chapter 215: My Country Sent Me to Work

Chapter 215: My Country Sent Me to Work

"Who told you to come to work?" Damien Sterling’s usually impassive face was a mix of bewilderment and irritation.

"My country sent me to work," Emma Hart replied with a mischievous glint in her eyes, teasing Damien Sterling further.

Damien’s expression turned from bemusement to outright confusion. "Have you lost your mind?" he asked, unable to hide his incredulity at her absurd response.

Emma Hart, unfazed, merely shrugged, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips before she adopted a more serious demeanor. She planted her hands firmly on the desk, locking eyes with Damien as if to anchor her argument with physical conviction. "If it’s not my country, then it must be the law," she retorted, her voice laced with laughter but her eyes serious.

Damien’s frown deepened. What game was she playing at?

"You see, I have a contract with your company, don’t I?" Emma continued, undeterred by his growing frustration.

Indeed, she was right. Emma had joined the company through the usual recruitment process, adhering to all the standard protocols expected of an employee.

Lowering her gaze, Emma’s hand instinctively moved to her stomach before she looked up again, her gaze steady. "Our country, our laws have made it clear—you cannot fire me during my pregnancy."

With that, she stepped away from the desk, crossing her arms over her chest with a triumphant air, as if she had just won a great battle.

Damien Sterling was taken aback. He had underestimated Emma Hart.

Their eyes met—her vibrant gaze clashing with his dark, stormy one. Emma knew he hadn’t anticipated her move. But she held a contract, and what could Damien really do about it?

Without waiting for his response, Emma turned on her heel. "Even if Mr. Sterling wishes to fire me, it would take some time. If there’s nothing else, I’ll be leaving now!" With those parting words, Emma briskly exited the CEO’s office.

Stepping out, she took a deep breath, her relief palpable. The secretaries outside stared in shock, their eyes wide as if they had just witnessed an escape from the jaws of a tiger. To them, Emma was an enigma; every exit from Damien Sterling’s office seemed like a narrow escape from disaster. Yet, this was a place many longed to enter, let alone spend time alone with Damien Sterling.

Emma gave the secretaries a sheepish smile and hurried toward the elevator, as if afraid the ’big tiger’ might chase after her any moment.

Emma Hart was immersed in her work when Sofia Greenwood approached her, a look of confusion spreading across her face as she saw Emma sitting so calmly. "Did you deliver the documents?" she inquired.

Emma nodded, "Yes, I did."

"And then?" Sofia pressed, puzzled by Emma’s serene demeanor. Had Damien Sterling not done anything in response?

Emma, equally baffled by the situation and now seeing Sofia’s reaction, realized her own questions were being answered. Why had Sofia given her that opportunity? It seemed Damien must have already informed Sofia that Emma wouldn’t be at work.

"There’s no ’then.’ Was there anything else, Ms. Greenwood?" Emma feigned innocence, her gaze meeting Sofia’s.

Sofia’s expression darkened momentarily before she stormed off, visibly frustrated. Emma, surprised by her own sense of satisfaction, wondered if spending time with this man had started to affect her psyche in strange ways.

By noon, Emma’s stomach graciously announced it was time for lunch. Just as she was about to stand up, several colleagues rushed over from the window, shouting, "Come and see this!"

With excitement, they exclaimed, "Everyone, come look! There’s a romantic proposal happening downstairs."

Emma shook her head, disinterested. Relationships within the company were common, and the initial pursuit often involved grand gestures.

She was more concerned with satisfying her hunger, but her younger colleagues gathered around, admiringly.

"Oh, so many balloons!, those magenta roses are so beautiful!"

"Is that a carpet of rose petals downstairs? It’s covered the ground!"

"I’m going to go down for a closer look," one female colleague said, both envious and excited.

Another colleague grabbed her, urging, "Look, look, there’s a helium balloon. Oh my God, it has writing on it! Let me see what it says."

"Emma Hart!" The balloon had floated up to their level, and the banner’s message became increasingly clear.

Emma’s heart skipped a beat. Could there be someone else with the same name? But the likelihood was slim. Had she misheard? It seemed improbable at her young age.

Yet, the reaction of her colleagues confirmed she hadn’t misheard. It wasn’t a case of mistaken identity or hearing loss.

One colleague, nearly sprinting in her clacking high heels, grabbed Emma’s arm and dragged her to the window. The figure downstairs looked incredibly familiar.

Emma Hart, standing close to the window, glanced down to see a figure and posture strikingly reminiscent of Oliver Westmore.

Before her, a banner rose into the air, lifted by hydrogen balloons, declaring, "Emma Hart, I love you."

A few of her female colleagues began to applaud and chant her name in excitement.

What a spectacle!

Below, Oliver Westmore had orchestrated such a grand display. Was his intention to corner Emma Hart? Did he not realize that Damien Sterling loomed over this scenario, and any overt challenge to Sterling, especially over someone he considered his, would not be taken lightly? Emma knew all too well about Sterling’s intense possessiveness.

With a sigh, Emma closed her eyes tight, wishing to ignore everything before her. It seemed Oliver really was playing a dangerous game.

Deciding to leave, Emma just wanted to grab her bag and escape the office chaos. It was as if her colleagues were conspirators sent by Oliver, eagerly ushering her downstairs with chants of, "Let’s go see! Let’s go see!"

Despite their excitement surpassing her own, Emma wished she could just declare her disinterest. Yet, not being one to shun her peers, she found herself escorted downstairs by a swarm of colleagues.

There, Oliver Westmore leaned against a sports car, donning a white suit that, on anyone else, might have seemed out of place, akin to attire for a rural celebration. However, on Oliver, with his tall frame and model-like proportions, topped with a sunny, gentle smile and his elegantly casual demeanor, the suit seemed perfectly fitting.

Oliver approached Emma with a rose in hand.

Emma bowed her head, surrounded by her colleagues in a tight circle, realizing they were quite adept at creating opportunities.

With furrowed brows and lowered gaze, she dared not look at Oliver, feeling this was just the beginning of a tension that made her scalp tingle and her head feel like bursting. She understood that this feeling was not solely because of Oliver’s gesture but also due to the presence of Damien Sterling above.

As Oliver offered the rose, a colleague nudged Emma’s hand, forcing her to accept the flower.