Overbearing CEO's Contract Love
Chapter 193: Has He Descended Again?

Chapter 193: Has He Descended Again?

Emma Hart made a face at Logan Harrington, shaking her head in disdain as she passed him, a look she knew was bound to provoke. That’s the way of the world, after all, a cycle of dominance and submission. Emma couldn’t help but revel in the memory of Logan’s once arrogant demeanor, now humbly trailing behind Amelia Davidson. It was a delightful turn of events for her.

As Logan Harrington gestured towards Emma with his fist, it seemed incredulous to him that Emma, of all people, would dare to mock him in such a manner. Emma, holding her head high, glanced towards Amelia Davidson in the front, her eyebrows raised in a challenge to Logan. Did he really think he could win Amelia over without sweet-talking Emma first, yet dared to make a fist at her?

Logan quickly caught on to Emma’s implication. His fist relaxed, and he began to shake his wrist in the air, his previously menacing expression dissolving into a sheepish, pleading smile. "That’s more like it!" Emma thought to herself as she caught up to Amelia Davidson, affectionately addressing her as "Sis Amelia."

Amelia Davidson glanced over her shoulder at Emma, her tone laced with reprimand, "Have you no respect for elders anymore?" Emma, tongue out in a playful gesture, suppressed a giggle, her eyes twinkling with mischief. She leaned in closer to Amelia, "Sis Amelia, what did you mean by ’also’? Aside from me, who else has been disrespectfully casual with you? Could it be..." Her voice trailed off as she turned to look back at Logan Harrington, implying his involvement.

Amelia Davidson simply rolled her eyes at Emma, an unspoken understanding between them that Logan and his ilk were all the same. Emma, realizing she might have inadvertently included someone else in her accusation, felt no remorse; she wasn’t wrong, after all.

"Sis Amelia, do you think Logan Harrington could be serious this time?" Emma asked, a depth surfacing in her gaze. Their usual banter hid a truth they all acknowledged: Logan Harrington wasn’t serious, and Amelia Davidson would never fall for him.

But what if, against all odds, true feelings developed? Emma pondered the consequences of unrequited love. Would Amelia’s affection turn Logan back into a playboy, or would his unreciprocated feelings lead to tragedy? Or, in another scenario, could their mutual love lead to a happy ending?

Suddenly, Amelia Davidson’s voice rose, jarring Emma from her thoughts, "Stop dreaming, there’s no way we’d end up together!"

Amelia Davidson strutted in her high heels with an air of indifference, while Emma Hart gazed ahead, pondering over Amelia’s words, finding truth in them. She glanced back at Logan Harrington, who lingered stubbornly, doubting any romance would blossom between them.

After dining, Emma returned to the office, resuming her work under the domineering supervision of Sophia Greenwood. The need for her to personally intervene had diminished; tasks were now delegated with ease.

Emma’s desk was piled high with documents meant for other companies, a testament to her role as the reluctant courier in an age dominated by digital advancements. She couldn’t fathom why, despite the rapid technological progress, she was required to physically deliver these documents. The justifications from above were numerous: concerns over cyber security, the necessity of official seals, and so forth, insisting on her direct involvement.

As Emma prepared to leave for her third company visit of the afternoon, she collided with something solid. Papers scattered everywhere. It was only upon looking up she realized she had bumped into Damien Sterling.

Was he descending among mortals again? Predictably, the sight of Damien set the design department abuzz. Colleagues hastily applied lipstick, dabbed on powder, cleared their throats, or straightened their attire, eager for his attention.

Emma glanced back momentarily, continuing to gather the fallen documents. She remembered how Damien had once defended her against the bullying of an older widow. Now, he stood by, seemingly indifferent.

Emma collected the documents, her gaze finally resting on Damien’s impassive face. "Mr. President, please proceed. The sirens inside eagerly await your arrival," she remarked with a hint of sarcasm, deliberately bumping into Damien as she passed.

Damien, taken aback by her boldness, involuntarily shifted to the side. His sharp gaze followed Emma out the door. As she exited, the women behind the glass doors hadn’t emerged, but Damien had already turned to leave.

He could only depart through the private elevator, but as he turned, he caught sight of the gloomy skies. His assistant had already summoned the elevator, but Damien stood by the window, a look of concern crossing his face.

The weather seemed poised to turn, and that foolish woman had likely not brought an umbrella. Did she not think to check the weather forecast?

The assistant tread carefully around Damien Sterling’s mood, watching as Sterling turned with a stormy expression to enter the elevator. Seizing the moment, the assistant ventured, "Should we send an umbrella to Miss Emma?" Sterling shot a chilling glance at the assistant, his cold eyes glittering with annoyance.

Silenced immediately, the assistant had hoped to impress but instead seemed to have irked Sterling. Despite Sterling’s seemingly worried gaze out the window moments before, his thoughts remained a puzzle, elusive and complex. The assistant, now quiet, focused on the elevator’s floor indicator, eager to escape the oppressive atmosphere of the confined space.

As the elevator pinged upon arrival, the assistant breathed a sigh of relief, as though they had endured an eternity despite just a few floors’ journey. Sterling exited first, with the assistant closely behind.

Just as the assistant took a step forward, Sterling’s sudden command halted him in his tracks, causing a shiver of surprise. "Arrange for someone to deliver her an umbrella. I assume you know how to handle that without my instruction," Sterling said, his tone and expression unreadable.

Quickly acknowledging the order, the assistant nodded, still somewhat perplexed but knowing better than to ask further questions, risking their job. As the assistant prepared to leave, Sterling’s words echoed in their mind, "I assume you know how to handle that without my instruction."