Overbearing CEO's Contract Love
Chapter 60: Cancellation of trip

Chapter 60: Cancellation of trip

As the thunder faded, Emma, still trembling, extricated herself from Damien’s embrace and pushed him away.

"What... what are you doing?" she stammered, mortified by her own impulsiveness.

Damien shook his head, waving his hands to show they were empty, "I didn’t do anything."

"And... neither did I," Emma quickly added, hoping to maintain some semblance of dignity.

The smile on Damien Sterling’s face remained constant, a detail Emma Hart couldn’t help but notice.

The man’s mood seemed exceptionally good today, his face constantly adorned with a smile, a stark contrast to his usual icy demeanor.

Had he won the lottery? But then again, what would a lottery win mean to someone like him?

Emma didn’t dwell on it too much as she arranged her pillow and lay back down.

"If that’s the case, I won’t intrude any further," Damien said, picking up his laptop, ready to leave.

No, wait! Emma glanced at the window, the rain outside, and the thunder that might roar at any moment.

"I don’t mind if you stay," she said, tightly closing her eyes and biting her lip, immediately regretting her words.

How could she let herself be so easily defeated by the sound of thunder?

Damien didn’t reply but smiled, walking around the bed to stand beside Emma, leaning against the headboard. "Go to sleep," he whispered gently.

Emma’s hand stealthily reached out from under the covers towards Damien, yet she dared not touch him.

Since childhood, she loved clutching her mother’s dress hem during such stormy weather, as if that gesture could imbue her with courage, dispelling her fear of thunder.

And now, she found herself reaching out in the same way, but towards Damien.

In the early morning, the rain from the previous day trickled down from the eaves outside the window, the storm having passed.

The sun broke through the clouds, casting its warm glow upon the earth.

Opening the window, the post-rain air was exceptionally fresh, filled with the scent of grass and blooming flowers.

The beauty of the morning lifted Emma Hart’s spirits, her mood brightening with the new day.

Damien Sterling’s secretary was diligently outlining the day’s agenda while Damien leisurely enjoyed his breakfast.

"How’s the weather forecast for this week?" Damien suddenly inquired.

The secretary quickly accessed the weather app, reporting, "Mr. Sterling, it’s expected to rain throughout the week."

A whole week? That woman would be terrified staying home alone.

Damien pondered deeply for a moment before making a decision. "Cancel all my evening appointments this week."

"But Mr. Sterling, the high-level meetings on Wednesday and Friday involve signing contracts worth hundreds of millions with several companies..."

The secretary cautiously reminded Damien, worried he might have overlooked these crucial engagements, although such an oversight was unheard of in Damien’s case.

Damien paused, his utensil mid-air. "Do I need to repeat myself?"

The secretary immediately bowed their head, nervously responding, "No, Mr. Sterling."

Though puzzled and not daring to question further, the secretary knew better.

Such a decision was out of character for Damien, who always prioritized deals and performance above all.

These contracts were direct proof to his grandfather of Damien’s capabilities.

The reason behind his unusual behavior remained an enigma to the secretary.

Meanwhile, Emma Hart, descending the stairs, had witnessed the entire exchange.

That man was always so decisive, seemingly discarding multimillion-dollar deals without a second thought.

Could it be because of her? A hint of bewilderment colored Emma’s thoughts.

She approached the dining table, a bit unnerved.

Mrs. Harris brought over a specially prepared breakfast for Emma, a gesture of concern due to her recent distress, and a direct instruction from Damien Sterling.

Damien Sterling cast a casual glance at Emma Hart as she descended the staircase, her white dress, a silky nightgown, fluttering gracefully with her movements, exuding an understated charm.

"Where are you planning to go after breakfast?" Damien inquired, his tone unexpectedly casual, as if making idle conversation.

Emma, accustomed to his usual reticence, was surprised by his willingness to chat.

Yet, knowing better than to provoke him, she replied cautiously, "I was thinking of just taking a walk."

"Make sure your phone is fully charged. If I can’t find you again, neither you nor your phone will ever leave this house," he stated.

The sharp sound of his fork against the plate, combined with the sudden chill in his demeanor, felt like being caught between fragments of a frozen iceberg, the cold biting and unforgiving.

Was he threatening her freedom again?

Emma, yearning for a peaceful life, endured in silence, harboring hopes of one day escaping this place for good.

"I understand," Emma responded quietly.

Damien wiped his mouth with a napkin, his elegance unmarred, and left without another word.

In his home, he was the undisputed authority, answerable to no one.

Emma waited for Damien to leave before she allowed herself to breathe freely, as if a taut string had finally been loosened.

Mrs. Harris handed Emma her soup. "Miss Emma, the master does care about you."

Care? Which part of his behavior suggested care, Emma wondered?

If anything, his actions felt like shackles, a projection of his self-righteousness.

"I’d rather not be ’cared for’ by him," Emma retorted.

"And who would you like to care for you?" Mrs. Harris asked half-jokingly.

Who would care for her? The man she once believed would cherish her had long abandoned her.

Those fleeting dreams of care and affection seemed elusive, leaving Emma to wonder if anyone, apart from herself, would ever offer her genuine tenderness.

Observing Emma Hart’s subdued expression, Mrs. Harris realized she might have inadvertently upset her.

"Miss Emma, where would you like to go today? I can accompany you," she offered.

"It’s alright, Mrs. Harris. There are things at home that need your attention, and I can manage on my own." Having Mrs. Harris around always made things complicated.

Any mishap could inadvertently involve her, which Emma wanted to avoid.

In Damien Sterling’s office, the room’s black, white, and gray color scheme exuded simplicity and sophistication.

The spacious office, enhanced by floor-to-ceiling windows, allowed sunlight to permeate every corner, making the top-floor space feel even more exclusive, overseeing the city’s hustle and the luxurious skyline.

The ringing phone broke the office’s silence.

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