Overbearing CEO's Contract Love
Chapter 55: His Sensitivities

Chapter 55: His Sensitivities

"I want it."

Emma promptly grabbed the card. Between freedom and pride, Emma leaned more towards freedom.

Damien Sterling picked up a napkin, wiping his lips in a gesture that resembled the satisfaction he displayed after having his way with her.

Damien’s driver was already waiting outside.

Damien took confident strides towards the door, stopping at the entrance.

Mrs. Harris, sensing something, approached Emma. "Miss Emma, the sir is about to leave."

"Huh?"

"Go help him with his coat."

Turning back, Emma Hart saw the man standing at the door, his suit hanging just an arm’s reach away.

He could easily slip into it himself.

Such blatant entitlement, a veritable lord of the manor, a capitalist through and through, and to top it off, as if he were someone incapable.

In her mind, Emma found herself critiquing Damien Sterling a thousand times with each step she took towards him.

Reluctantly complying, Emma made sure her face didn’t betray her feelings.

She feared any unintended provocation might lead to Damien snatching away the precious freedom she cherished.

Her movements in dressing Damien had become more fluid over time, yet every touch of her fingers against his skin stirred a tumult within her.

Without uttering a word, Damien left, cementing Emma’s impression of him not only as an imperious figure but also as one lacking in courtesy.

As Damien departed, Emma too stepped out of the house.

"Miss Emma, we have a driver at the house. Shall I arrange for you to be driven?" offered Mrs. Harris.

The driver, usually kept on standby for Damien’s unexpected needs, generally had little to do beyond occasionally taking Mrs. Harris to run errands.

Emma waved her hand dismissively, "No need, Mrs. Harris, it’s tough to find parking near the hospital."

Using Damien Sterling’s driver was out of the question for Emma.

Wouldn’t that mean reporting her every move back to him?

After several bus transfers, Emma finally reached her destination.

Her funds were limited, and the money provided by Damien remained untouched.

At the supermarket near her home, Emma carefully selected a few items.

The prices were steep for her, but when it came to family, Emma never hesitated to spend.

Grandma was leisurely sitting in the alley, chatting with the neighbors when Emma Hart approached.

Instantly, Grandma stood up, exclaiming, "Oh, my dear granddaughter is back? Look at her, everyone, bringing all these gifts. Isn’t she thoughtful?"

Back in Damien Sterling’s presence, Emma once again became the cherished granddaughter.

Gazing at the kindly, benevolent old lady before her, Emma even doubted if the person who scolded her earlier was really her grandma.

The neighbors, though smiling and showering praises on Emma, were secretly envious and somewhat disdainful in their hearts.

As soon as Emma stepped into the yard, she spotted her mother, freshly discharged from the hospital the previous day, busily picking vegetables and dipping her hands into the icy water.

Emma, heart aching, swiftly reached out to lift her mother’s hands, now reddened by the cold.

"Mom, you were just discharged yesterday. The doctor advised bed rest," she reminded gently.

"It’s alright, I’m fine," her mother reassured her.

Grandma’s expression shifted with the atmosphere.

Moments ago, she was a warm and friendly elderly woman; now, she looked at Emma without that former tenderness.

"Emma, you’re concerned for your mother, I see. But Grandma is old too, I can’t handle these heavy chores anymore."

Emma set down the bags, only for Grandma to glance disdainfully, "Those things you can find in any supermarket, don’t bother buying them again. Look at what Mr. Sterling brought, all imported goods."

Emma wasn’t surprised by Grandma’s preference for wealth over simplicity; it was her usual manner.

"Grandma, if you don’t want them, let Mom have them, okay?"

Hearing this, Grandma’s feigned frailty vanished instantly. She briskly stepped forward, gathered all the items, and declared, "I’ll put these away first."

Emma Hart stood before her grandmother, a tumult of unexpressed anger swirling within her.

Despite everything, she was an elder, yet showed none of the dignity expected of one.

Pulling her mother aside, Emma pleaded, "Mom, please take care of yourself. Your health is what matters most."

Her mother gently patted Emma’s hand, reassuring her with a tender, "I know, dear."

The yard’s lush grapevine draped over the entire house, creating a cool, natural canopy.

Emma’s mother, noticing the worry etched on her daughter’s face, inquired softly, "Emma, are you doing alright these days?"

Her mother’s gentle disposition simultaneously frustrated and saddened Emma.

Despite her deep concern, her mother seemed powerless to change anything.

Grandma emerged from the room, having somehow concealed the nutritional supplements she hoarded, refusing to share even a bit with her mother-in-law.

"Oh, how cramped this little house feels," Grandma lamented with a sigh.

Emma stepped forward, only to be held back by her mother.

Breaking free, Emma confronted her grandmother, "Grandma, we four managed fine in this house before. Now with my brother at college and me away, only you and Mom are here. Do you still find it too small?"

"Emma, you must understand Grandma," her grandma chided. "You live in a big house with people to attend to you. But look at the small, shabby place Grandma and your mom live in."

Grandma pointed towards the roof, adding, "See? It even leaks."

Emma’s mother tugged at her, signaling her to refrain from arguing back.

Emma held her tongue, but Grandma was far from done.

"Emma, talk to Mr. Sterling. Get a bigger house for Grandma and your mom. If not for us, do it for your brother. After graduation, without a proper house, which girl would consider him?"

Grandma’s words, seemingly logical, carried an underlying darkness that repelled Emma.

"Grandma, Mr. Sterling’s money is not mine to claim, and I won’t ask him for such favors. You should let go of that idea," Emma retorted, standing tall.

In that moment, Emma doubted if she was truly her grandmother’s granddaughter. Could there really be no affection at all?