We Want Mommy Not You Daddy (Cedar) novel Chapter 61

Chapter 61

Cedar’s POV

I froze when Ridley commanded me to stop, his voice carrying that unmistakable note of authority that brooked no argument. The room suddenly felt narrower, the air between us charged with tension.

“I won’t comment on your innocence,” he said coldly, “but giving attitude to your superior–do you still think you’re in the right?”

When he stepped forward, effectively blocking my path and confining me to the cramped space between him and the wall, I felt my heart‘

rate accelerate.

My mind immediately flashed back to last night under the oak tree. This wasn’t the first time Ridley had invaded my personal space, creating these uncomfortable moments between us. I needed to establish clear boundaries with him–I couldn’t risk getting entangled in another workplace scandal, especially not with the CEO himself.

“Mr. Sterling, I need to work now. Please move aside,” I said, trying to maintain my composure despite my growing irritation.

When he made no move to let me pass, I made a split–second decision, bending down to dart past him. It was childish, perhaps, but I was desperate to escape this claustrophobic standoff.

That’s when it happened. His hand shot out reflexively to stop me, but instead of grabbing my arm as he’d likely intended, his palm connected firmly with my breast.

The shock of his touch sent electricity through my system. “Ahhh!” I screamed, instinctively shoving him away from me.

Before I could process what I was doing, my hand was already in motion, swinging toward his face with surprising force. “You pervert!”

In broad daylight, in our workplace–did he really think he could touch me like that? Did he think I was someone he could take advantage of without consequences?

He tilted his head, avoiding the full impact of my slap, but my nails caught his jaw, leaving thin scratches with traces of blood.

Reality crashed down on me immediately. My hand stung, and my eyes widened in horror at what I’d done. I had just physically assaulted Ridley Sterling–the CEO of Sterling Design Group, one of Chicago’s most influential businessmen.

Oh God, What had I done? Had I completely lost my mind? Did I no longer want this job? Did I no longer want to live in Chicago at all?

“I…I’m so sorry, Mr. Sterling!” I stammered, a fresh wave of shame washing over me.

His expression remained unreadable as he touched his jaw, examining the small amount of blood on his fingertips. “Seriously? It was just a little touch. You’re totally overreacting.”

His dismissive tone ignited something in me. The indignation burned through my embarrassment, replacing it with righteous anger.

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“Just a little touch?” My voice rose sharply. Your hand was right on my I couldn’t even bring myself to say it out loud in the office. “That’s sexual harassment! Workplace assault! I barely grazed you when I defended myself, so don’t even think about coming after me for

it!

I squared my shoulders and forced myself to meet his gaze. But when I noticed the small scratch on his jaw–evidence of my momentary

loss of control–my confidence wavered.

No matter the circumstances, physical violence was never acceptable, especially against someone with as much power in this city as

Ridley Sterling.

Was this it for me? Had I just destroyed my career with one impulsive action?

Before I could spiral further, he moved with the fluid grace of a predator, grabbing my wrist and pressing me against the wall. The cool

plaster against my back contrasted sharply with the heat radiating from his body as he leaned in.

*Since I’ve already been struck, I might as well do something to fix it,” he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous timbre as he bent

slightly to look directly into my eyes.

The intensity of his gaze was magnetic, pulling me in despite my better judgment. I struggled to maintain my composure. “Mr. Sterling,

whatever this is about, we can discuss it calmly. Would you please let me go first?”

“Letting go would make it difficult to proceed,” he replied, his words hanging in the air between us.

My face burned hot._

Proceed? Proceed with what?

He couldn’t possibly mean what I thought he meant, could he?

“What… what do you want?” I managed to ask, my voice barely audible even to my own ears.

“My jaw got scratched–shouldn’t you tend to it?” he said suddenly, releasing me and stepping back.

So that’s what he meant by “proceed.”

Mortification washed over me anew. What had I been thinking? What kind of unprofessional thoughts had been running through my

mind?

He pulled a wet wipe from his pocket and held it out to me. “You do it.”

I stared at the offered wipe, reluctance written across my features. “Mr. Sterling, you should probably do it yourself. I’m not very gentle,

and I might hurt you.”

“Who caused the injury?” he asked pointedly.

Chapter 61

I had no defense against that simple logic. With a sigh of resignation, I accepted the wet wipe and stepped closer to him. Rising on my tiptoes he was still frustratingly tall even with my heels–I carefully cleaned the blood from his jaw.

Truthfully, the scratch was minor–barely a paper cut. He was being utterly dramatic about the whole thing!

I was acutely aware of our proximity, less than two inches separating us. The subtle notes of his cologne–sandalwood and something distinctly masculine–enveloped me. I kept my eyes firmly fixed on the task at hand, refusing to look directly at him, though I could feel

the weight of his gaze on me.

When I finished, I stepped back immediately, creating distance between us. “Mr. Sterling, you should probably put a small bandage on that

to prevent infection.”

My tone was respectful, but inside I was rolling my eyes. Such a tiny scratch hardly warranted this level of attention.

The absurdity of the situation wasn’t lost on me. Somehow, he had touched me inappropriately–whether intentional or not–and yet I was the one apologizing and caring for his minor injury. How was that fair?

“Is there anything else you need, Mr. Sterling?” I asked, my voice carefully neutral, though my patience was wearing thin. “I really should

get back to my work.”

Ridley regarded me silently for a beat, then nodded with apparent satisfaction.

“Fine. I won’t disturb your work then,” he said curtly, already turning toward the door.

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