Chapter 196 Sitting on His Lap in Public

Chapter 196: Chapter 196: Sitting on His Lap in Public

Was it a declaration of sovereignty, or a provocation?

Sophie Winslow couldn’t help but look at Julian Sterling, who stood a couple of steps behind Stella Sutton. The man carried himself like a detached observer. He had clearly seen what she did, yet he made no move to stop her.

It was tacit consent.

A clear display of where he stood.

Though Sophie usually preferred not to cause a scene, the sheer absurdity of it all drew a cold scoff from her lips. Perhaps her gaze had been a bit too sharp; after taking his seat, Julian glanced over at her with mild disinterest.

It was as if he had only just realized she was there.

Sophie had no intention of swallowing this petty insult. She might not want to put on a public display of affection with Julian, but she absolutely would not let Stella toss her nameplate aside like a piece of garbage in front of everyone.

She marched straight toward them.

Before she could utter a word, excited voices erupted from behind. Waves of students surged forward, chattering over one another. "Sutton? Is it really you! I watched your show; my whole family loves you!"

The students had recognized Stella, a frequent guest on major talk shows, medical panels, and educational science videos. They swarmed her like fans mobbing a celebrity.

Caught in the middle of the chaos, Sophie was inevitably in the way, and someone accidentally shoved her aside.

Stella caught sight of this. Seeing Sophie looking so comical—unable to even squeeze her way back into the private little world shared by Stella and Julian—a distinct smile rippled through Stella’s eyes. "Careful, everyone," she said gently.

Her words only fueled the fire. The crowd of starry-eyed fans grew even more frantic, each vying to be the first to get a photo with Stella. In the frenzy, Sophie, who had just managed to steady herself, was violently knocked off balance by a rogue backpack.

She had dressed up for the formal occasion today, opting for a pair of high heels she would normally never wear. She stumbled, instantly losing her footing.

A hand reached through the fray, catching her wrist with a firm but measured grip.

In that split second, Sophie finally found her center of gravity. The momentum jerked her forward, and without warning, she dropped uncontrollably right into the man’s lap.

Beneath her were firm legs, the thigh muscles rock-hard against her.

Her scalp instantly tingled. She turned her head, crashing straight into Julian’s deep, pitch-black eyes.

The surrounding clamor seemed to die down for a split second. Even the students clamoring for photos with Stella stopped dead in their tracks, their eyes snapping over in unison.

With so many eyes on the venue today, several other clusters of attendees had also noticed the commotion. Looks of sheer astonishment swept through the crowd. Everyone knew Julian Sterling, but Sophie was a fresh face. Only a very, very select few among the elite recognized her.

As a result, the situation quickly spiraled out of control.

Especially with Stella standing right in front of them, her expression turning downright ugly. Her gentle smile had vanished completely. Her lips were pressed into a tight, thin line, and after her initial shock faded, she glared at Sophie with cold, raging fury.

How dare Sophie throw herself into Julian’s arms in front of so many people!

There were already five or six hundred people in the auditorium alone, not to mention the large crowds still mingling outside. Stunned by the spectacle, the onlookers immediately began to whisper among themselves.

Stella caught snippets of their hushed gossip.

"So intimate..." "Mr. Sterling is such a gentleman..." "They look perfect together..." "Are they a couple?"

The words made Stella’s face stiffen even further.

Julian’s expression remained completely unfazed. He leaned back in his chair with an air of lazy indifference, staring down at Sophie in his lap. His gaze drifted slowly downward until it landed on her nude-colored heels.

"The shoes don’t suit you," he remarked. He made no move to push her away, merely offering that single observation.

Back in the ER, Sophie had practically lived in flats. She avoided high heels unless absolutely necessary, which meant she had never truly mastered walking in them.

But she also understood the hidden implication behind his words. He was saying that *they* didn’t suit each other right now.

Julian, of course, would never physically shove her off him. Even on his worst, most bastardly days, he wouldn’t stoop that low. He was a callous man, yet every bit the gentlemanly scoundrel. In both public and private, he maintained a polished facade of perfect manners. It was easy for him to create the illusion of treating someone as special, when in reality, it meant absolutely nothing to him.

Julian was reminding her that sitting on his lap was crossing a line. It was upsetting his precious sweetheart.

Sophie tugged the corner of her lips into a smile, pulling her wrist free from the large hand that had just caught her. "You’re right, it’s not a good fit. But an accident is just an accident."

Using the table for support, she pushed herself up and stood.

Stella’s face remained cold. "Then you were terribly careless."

Sophie could hear the underlying emotion in her voice—a raw, fierce possessiveness over Julian. It was a clear warning, reprimanding her for daring to touch her man.

"Compared to you intentionally swapping seats and tossing out my nameplate, I suppose I was a bit careless," Sophie retorted smoothly.

Stella bristled at the accusation.

Peter Preston approached, entirely oblivious to the drama that had just unfolded. However, he immediately noticed Sophie’s nameplate discarded in the back row. It clearly hadn’t been moved by Sophie herself—nobody would toss their own nameplate onto the table like a piece of trash, leaving it totally askew.

He glanced at Stella and instantly deduced the culprit. Promptly flagging down one of the university staff members in charge of the seating arrangements, he asked, "Is this really the seating plan? Sophie is all the way in the back?"

Stella hadn’t expected Peter to make such a scene over a minor seating issue. She pursed her lips, fighting to maintain her polite smile. "Mr. Preston, is there really a need to make a fuss over something so trivial?"

Today was supposed to be a triumphant day. She had recently launched her independent venture separate from Longview, and she was here to promote her products and secure new partnerships. She had arrived in high spirits, only for her mood to plummet after catching Sophie brazenly sitting on Julian’s lap.

And now, with Peter doggedly making an issue out of the nameplate, she was thoroughly annoyed.

"Trivial?" Peter let out a dry chuckle. "Only the one taking advantage thinks it’s no big deal. Everyone sitting in this row has immense standing—esteemed professors with the highest university honors, special political delegates like my father, or financial titans like Mr. Sterling. You’re quite clever, Miss Sutton. You saw our Sophie as an easy target and took full advantage of her. Why didn’t you try swapping nameplates with anyone else?"

Besides, Sophie’s seat hadn’t been placed there because of Julian. It was because Sophie was an exceptionally appointed associate professor! She had every right to sit in that row! What gave Stella the audacity to banish her to the back?

By calling her out so explicitly, he boldly stripped Stella of her dignity in front of the crowd. Stella’s polite facade nearly crumbled. She seethed inwardly—why wasn’t Peter showing her even a shred of gentlemanly courtesy? Why would he completely disregard her pride?

Finn Lockwood and Evan York strolled over after finishing their pleasantries, catching the tail end of the dispute.

Evan shot a glance at Sophie.

Finn had already stepped up. "Mr. Preston, it’s just a seat. Sophie might not even mind the swap."

As far as he was concerned, Sophie should have already grasped reality—Julian didn’t belong to her. She ought to have the grace to step aside and let things be.

"Furthermore," Finn added, shooting Sophie a highly meaningful smile. "You said it yourself, Mr. Preston—the front row is reserved for the elite. Is it really appropriate for a nobody like Sophie to mix in with them? What right does she have to sit here? Can you really justify that to the rest of the room?"