Overbearing CEO's Contract Love
Chapter 53: Meeting again

Chapter 53: Meeting again

In the hospital room, aside from Emma Hart’s mother, there was another person, casting a shadow over Emma’s usually bright expression.

Indifferently, she asked, "What are you doing here?"

The color drained slightly from her mother’s face as she explained, "Ethan Turner happened to be here visiting a patient, saw me, and heard about my discharge. He started helping me pack my things."

"I don’t need your help," Emma Hart snapped, snatching the items from Ethan Turner’s hands and shoving him aside.

It would be for the best if this man never crossed her path again.

"Emma..." Ethan Turner, grasping Emma Hart’s sleeve, looked at her with apologetic eyes full of regret.

"Let go!" Emma Hart glared fiercely at Ethan Turner.

Ethan’s gaze dropped to Emma’s abdomen, his words halting, unspoken, "You..."

Suppressing the tears threatening to spill from her eyes, Emma refused to show her vulnerability in front of this man who had pushed her into an abyss.

She mustered her strength, her voice rising, "What does it have to do with you?"

"Auntie is being discharged today. Let me help you out," he offered gently.

"No need." Emma Hart, supporting her mother, prepared to leave the room.

However, burdened with too many items and clutching the soup, her belongings kept tumbling to the ground.

In a flurry, Ethan stepped forward to pick up the fallen items, insisting, "Let me help."

Witnessing the two in conflict, Emma’s mother intervened softly, "Just let Ethan Turner carry it to the car, dear. You can’t manage it all by yourself."

Emma Hart remained silent, refusing to give Ethan another glance.

After all, she had once loved him deeply, and those feelings weren’t easily set aside.

Outside Damien Sterling’s office, Sophia Greenwood made her way in without hesitation.

Damien looked up, his brow slightly furrowed, an air of displeasure surrounding him.

"Why are you here again?"

"Again? Dear Damien, I have a proposal I’d like you to see. What do you think of the design?" she inquired smoothly.

Without looking up, Damien responded dismissively, "You’re the expert in this field. No need to ask me. You decide."

Sophia casually set the file aside, knowing well that it was merely a pretext.

The secretary entered, noticing the proximity between Sophia Greenwood and Damien Sterling, sensing an undertone of intimacy.

Yet, she dared not comment, merely reporting, "Mr. Sterling, your next appointment is at the Financial Tower. The car is waiting outside."

Her tone was professional, her attire strictly business, but Sophia Greenwood couldn’t help feeling a twinge of distaste at the secretary’s youthful appearance.

"Dear Damien, you really should consider hiring secretaries with a bit of intellect. What are they good for, apart from preening and dressing up?" she remarked disdainfully.

Damien Sterling, donning his coat, didn’t engage, simply asking, "You staying here?"

Sophia suddenly remembered, "Oh, I actually need to stop by the Financial Tower too. Mind if I join you?"

Without a word, Damien’s silence was consent.

Sophia, in her high heels, grabbed her folder and followed, calling after him, "Wait for me, dear Damien."

Outside the hospital.

Ethan Turner followed Emma Hart, her mother having just taken a taxi.

Emma coldly took the items from Ethan’s hands, about to leave without a word when Ethan suddenly grasped her arm.

Reluctantly turning, Emma asked impatiently, "What now?"

"I’m sorry," Ethan uttered, his brow furrowed.

Seeing Emma’s condition today stirred a tumult of emotions within him, his apology laden with regret.

He couldn’t describe how he felt, knowing he owed Emma an apology, yet unsure how to make amends.

Emma stood frozen, as if she had waited a century to hear those words.

Yet, when Ethan finally spoke them, they seemed so trivial.

What good is an apology if it doesn’t change anything?

If apologies were enough, would we need the police?

With a cold laugh, Emma wasn’t just mocking Ethan, but also herself.

On the street, a black Bugatti sped by. The man inside, glancing out, caught this scene.

Damien Sterling watched the two facing each other, a shadow of disquiet in his eyes.

Sophia Greenwood observed Damien Sterling’s brooding expression, following the direction of his gaze, but she saw nothing.

"What’s the matter?" she inquired.

Damien Sterling turned, his lips parting slightly, "It’s nothing."

Sophia recalled the art exhibition she heard about over the weekend, having secured two tickets from a friend. "Damien, there’s this exhibi—"

But before she could finish, she noticed Damien had already closed his eyes.

Knowing his distaste for being disturbed while resting, Sophia silenced herself, instinctively leaning a bit closer to him.

Sophia Greenwood, true to her name, was the envy of every scion in their circle, yet she held no one in regard except for one exception – Damien Sterling.

But Damien was invariably cold to everyone, Sophia included.

At the villa.

The sound at the entrance signaled Damien Sterling’s return.

"Where is she?" Damien’s voice was icy.

Mrs. Harris, about to assist with Damien’s coat, was interrupted, "Call her here."

Emma Hart was on the sofa, well within earshot, yet she wasn’t one to ingratiate or fawn over anyone, not even rising to greet him.

"No need for Mrs. Harris to call," Emma said as she approached.

Damien’s first glance was towards Emma’s abdomen.

"Mrs. Harris, you may leave," he dismissed her.

Mrs. Harris, never one to disobey Damien, especially after the last incident, promptly headed to the kitchen.

"What are you waiting for?" Damien’s voice held a note of impatience, his arms already outstretched.

Emma paused momentarily. Was he expecting her to help him undress?

His lack of self-sufficiency was astonishing.

With a silent critique in her mind, Emma lowered her gaze and moved in front of Damien.

Towering over her, Damien Sterling made Emma Hart strain on her tiptoes just to reach his collar.

His rapid breathing was palpable, and even without looking up, Emma could feel his hawk-like gaze fixated on her as if she were prey under scrutiny.

Intense, piercing, it made her uncomfortably aware of his presence.