Overbearing CEO's Contract Love
Chapter 226: Are You Coming Home for Dinner Tonight?

Chapter 226: Are You Coming Home for Dinner Tonight?

Despite his command over external affairs, Damian Sterling remained eternally a child before his grandfather, whose face, though lined with wrinkles, still radiated the undeniable authority of his younger days. Aware of Damian’s obstinate and obsessive nature, his grandfather, agitated, tapped his cane sharply on the floor. "This will not be allowed. Do not force me to be unkind," he warned sternly.

Damian clenched his teeth, holding back further words, rising abruptly to leave. Behind him, his grandfather coughed several times from the couch. Pausing, Damian turned to look back, but upon hearing no more coughs, he remained silent, lifted his chin, and moved forward.

That morning, Emma Hart rose with Damian. As they began their day, Mrs. Harris approached with an invitation in hand. "Mr. Sterling, the driver came for the invitation. Are you sending this to Miss Greenwood?" she asked.

Damian nodded. "Have the driver deliver it," he instructed, thus avoiding another direct interaction with Sophia Greenwood.

Mrs. Harris was about to comply when Emma, descending the stairs, overheard and approached directly. "Mrs. Harris, may I see that?" she asked, her curiosity piqued by the invitation’s implications.

Taken aback, Mrs. Harris glanced at Damian, who sat silently on the sofa. With his tacit approval, she handed the invitation to Emma. Was it another gala? Another female companion? Emma felt a surge of irritation as she realized Damian’s companion would be Sophia Greenwood. Looking at Damian, her annoyance intensified. She never did find him appealing.

Handing Emma a glass of juice, Mrs. Harris watched as Emma walked around the living room, eventually stopping near Damian. Emma circled him, her presence seemingly casual.

Damian tossed aside his tablet and turned to face her. "You’re making me dizzy with all this circling," he said, his tone light yet edged.

With a slight pout, Emma replied apologetically, "Oh, I was just getting some exercise. I didn’t mean to disturb you," and with that, she stretched her arms, feigning nonchalance, and moved away.

Halfway to her destination, Emma Hart suddenly doubled back, taking a few steps in reverse before leaning close to whisper in Damian Sterling’s ear, "Are you tonight—?" Her voice trailed off, the unspoken questions hanging in the air. She wanted to ask if he would return for dinner, whether he planned to attend the gala with Sophia Greenwood. Yet, Emma was unsure why she even cared to ask, especially since the invitation had made it clear. Still, she harbored a flicker of hope.

"What are you trying to say?" Damian asked, his impatience clear.

Emma retracted her words, "Never mind, bye. I didn’t really want to ask anything."

After breakfast, feeling unsettled, Emma gathered her things and headed to the office. No sooner had she settled into her seat than whispers spread across the room, "Ms. Greenwood is here, Ms. Greenwood is here." Colleagues hurriedly tidied their desks; some poised their hands over their mice, feigning intense concentration, while others swiftly tucked away personal items and pretended to scrutinize documents.

The whole office seemed to put on a show of diligence. Emma watched everyone’s uniform actions with a resigned air, while in the distance, Sophia Greenwood’s humming, punctuated by the rhythmic tapping of her high heels, echoed through the office.

Sophia entered the day dressed in designer labels: a medium-length white dress suit and a Chanel-style jacket that accentuated her sleek professionalism and added a touch of mature elegance. Her presence caused several female colleagues to sneak glances, admiringly murmuring, "Isn’t that the bag from this month’s new release? She’s already got it."

"Stop staring. I read in a magazine yesterday that it’s a global limited edition," another whispered.

Indeed, Sophia’s collection of bags seemed inexhaustible, each day a different one, never repeating. Emma couldn’t help but wonder just how large Sophia’s closet was, considering the speed with which she seemed to switch accessories.

With a radiant smile, Sophia appeared in high spirits, probably buoyed by the morning’s invitation. As she entered the design department, her piercing gaze swept over everyone, finally resting on Emma, who had no interest in meeting her stare.

Sophia’s look lingered on Emma just a moment longer before she huffed softly and headed toward her office.

In the design department, Sophia Greenwood’s unusually bright mood did not go unnoticed. "Ms. Greenwood, why are you so cheerful today?" a colleague inquired, her hands fluttering dismissively when another shrugged unknowingly.

In the break room, Emma Hart filled a glass with water, planning to return to her desk and bury herself in work. Looking up, she encountered the familiar figure of Sophia—truly, foes meet where least expected. Sophia blocked her path, arms crossed and elevated by her high heels, towering over Emma. Her stance reeked of confrontation.

Emma tried to shrink aside, displaying her reluctance openly. It wasn’t that she was cowardly by choice; she genuinely preferred to avoid conflict with Sophia.

Sophia twiddled a familiar-looking invitation between her fingers—surely the same one Emma had examined that morning. She flaunted it, perhaps as a display of some petty victory.

Knowing well what it was, Emma had no desire to engage further. She attempted to sidestep, squeezing through a narrow gap beside her.

However, Sophia stepped aside too, bumping into Emma, causing her to spill her hot water. The scalding liquid stained Emma’s hand red. "Sophia Greenwood, what are you doing?" Emma exclaimed, her initial strategy of avoidance crumbling under Sophia’s relentless provocation.

Each encounter was the same, with Sophia never intending to spare her. Emma’s brow furrowed as the heat from her hand brought a sharp pain. She shook her arm in agony—it was painfully hot!

Sophia looked on, satisfied, ignoring the burn she had caused on Emma’s hand.

"Ms. Greenwood, you wanted to discuss tonight’s gala, didn’t you?" Emma Hart quirked an eyebrow, her tone deliberately casual. Sophia Greenwood was visibly taken aback by Emma’s preemptive remark, a flash of surprise evident in her eyes. However, it quickly vanished, replaced by her usual aloof demeanor, her face settling back into an expression of disdain.