Overbearing CEO's Contract Love
Chapter 216: Engaging in Such Childish Acts

Chapter 216: Engaging in Such Childish Acts

Oliver Westmore took a step forward, gently capturing Emma Hart’s hand, and drew her to the rear of the car. The moment the trunk popped open, a bounty of delicate roses burst into view, their deep crimson petals exuding an enchanting fragrance.

Surveying the crowd around him, Oliver seemed to draw courage from their presence. With a voice louder than before, he declared, "Emma, this rose in your hand signifies you’re my everything, while these roses behind me represent everything I’m willing to give you. I hope you can accept me."

Emma Hart, standing there, stared at Oliver Westmore, her eyes tracing the earnestness on his face. Yet, what could she do but let him down?

In a soft voice directed at Oliver Westmore, who was kneeling on one knee, Emma said, "Oliver Westmore, please stand up."

Emma looked at Oliver with a mix of discomfort and sympathy.

Oliver, shaking his head, steadfastly replied, "Emma, unless you agree, I won’t stand."

"Just stand up, we can talk then," she implored.

But Oliver, still on one knee, appeared as if he was proposing, making it impossible for Emma to just accept. Their colleagues, already buzzing with excitement, began to chant, "Accept him, accept him."

In the executive office atop the building, Damien Sterling observed the scene below. His gaze, cold and calculating, settled on Emma Hart and Oliver Westmore, surrounded by a crowd of onlookers.

As the crowd pushed Emma and Oliver closer together, Oliver, holding the roses with sincerity, whispered in a voice only Emma could hear, "Emma, with so many eyes on us, it would be embarrassing for me if you said no."

Emma, slightly annoyed yet touched, gave Oliver a look. He had indeed learned how to press her buttons, knowing well how she tends to soften.

"Coldly, Emma retorted, "Then you have only yourself to blame."

Oliver remained kneeling, his laughter ringing out, clearly understanding that Emma wasn’t serious.

Emma felt awkward about publicly embarrassing Oliver Westmore, the CEO of Westmore Corporation. His open pursuit, if outright rejected, would indeed be a blow to his pride. Yet, agreeing even in pretense would invite unwelcome attention from the man upstairs, whose reactions were unpredictable.

Wondering if that man had been out on a meeting, Emma hoped he hadn’t witnessed this scene. The curiosity of their colleagues, she thought, would eventually wane. But still, she felt agreeing to Oliver Westmore was a mistake. What if he took her acceptance seriously?

Emma fiddled with her clothing, her hands twitching at her sides, torn over the situation. Yet, had she known of Damien Sterling’s fierce gaze from the window, perhaps her considerations would have been far simpler.

Indeed, had Emma been aware, she might have chosen to flee without a second thought.

In the top-floor office, the assistant entered from outside, curiosity piqued by the buzz of a public confession she had just joined to witness downstairs.

Yet, no sooner had he returned than Damien Sterling summoned her into the office. Standing by the window, Damien exuded an aura so dark it seemed to cast shadows, tangible yet elusive, creating an oppressively heavy atmosphere around him. It was an unspoken declaration of Sterling’s mood, far from light.

With trepidation, the assistant stood at the door, voice quivering as he ventured, "Mr. Sterling, do you have any instructions for me?"

...

After hearing Damien Sterling’s orders, the assistant’s brows knitted in confusion. "Mr. Sterling, you mean to..." But at Sterling’s darkening expression, she promptly silenced himself, bowing slightly. "I’ll see to it right away."

Downstairs, Emma Hart and Oliver Westmore had been standing there for nearly ten minutes, the surrounding crowd showing no signs of dispersing.

Emma thought it best to feign acceptance of Oliver Westmore’s proposal, sparing him the embarrassment in front of so many. Yet, deep down, she felt a true, inescapable distance between them.

Just as Emma was about to step forward, the distant sound of a birthday song began to play, and droplets of water fell upon her.

Looking up, she noted the clear sky, puzzled. "Why would there be a water truck here?" someone in the crowd shouted.

In the distance, the water truck sprayed wildly, its hose drenching the onlookers who had been enjoying the scene, now scrambling for cover, leaving Emma and Oliver behind.

A few colleagues, caught off guard, were soaked through.

The crowd’s sudden shift separated Emma and Oliver. Emma, bumped by someone, spun around, losing sight of Oliver. As she turned back, she found herself face to face with Damien Sterling.

"Why are you here?" she exclaimed, surprised by his sudden appearance.

"What else?" Damien seemed almost to challenge with his question.

With a stern face, Damien didn’t pause, draping his jacket over Emma’s shoulders and drawing her close. He then escorted her away from the crowd, his car already waiting by the curb.

Damien Sterling almost seemed to be stuffing Emma Hart into the car, his hands firm yet gentle enough to ensure she was not hurt. Emma could feel the tension in Damien, a clear sign of his anger.

Shielded by Damien, Emma was virtually untouched by the water from the spraying truck. Bearing a child, her immune system was already compromised, making a cold or flu not just a discomfort but a risk to the baby.

Once in the car, Emma found Damien’s timely arrival and the peculiar presence of the water truck at their company’s curb beyond coincidental.

Casting a suspicious glance at Damien, she caught him instinctively looking away.

"What are you looking at?" Damien asked, a guilty undertone in his voice.

Emma couldn’t help but laugh. Before she could even question him, his reaction had given him away—undeniable guilt.

Holding Damien’s gaze, she inquired, "Did you arrange for that water truck?"

Damien avoided her eyes, deflecting, "I don’t have that kind of pull."

His evasion seemed deliberate. Emma would have believed any other excuse, but claiming a lack of influence? That, she couldn’t accept. Not when she was convinced Damien had the power to command not just one but an entire fleet of water trucks if he wished.

Emma stared at him, his gaze still dodging, and burst into laughter, "Oh, you’re lying."

It seemed the man was unwilling to admit to such a childish act.

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