Overbearing CEO's Contract Love
Chapter 122: The Devil Wears Prada

Chapter 122: The Devil Wears Prada

As soon as the door opened, Emma Hart was greeted by the sight of Damien Sterling changing his clothes, his upper abdomen bare.

Despite having seen his well-defined chest and perfect abs countless times, Emma instinctively covered her eyes, her lifelong sense of modesty compelling her to act shyly at such a view.

Damien glanced at her disdainfully and pulled on a new pajama top, "Don’t act like you’ve never seen it before."

As expected, she received his ridicule.

Emma lowered her hand and asked weakly, "What’s up?"

Then she sat down on the edge of the bed, feeling her entire body relax as if soft hands were pulling her down from behind.

Lying on the bed felt so soft and comfortable that she didn’t want to get up.

Having worked on her computer all afternoon, Emma felt utterly exhausted.

"Watch a movie with me."

"No, I haven’t finished my resume," Emma stubbornly said, already getting up from the bed to continue working in the study.

Damien Sterling called out sharply, halting Emma in her tracks, "Emma Hart, do you have any idea how harmful computer radiation is? If you take one more step forward, you can forget about joining Sterling Group."

Alright, the man knew how to make threats.

Emma might not have been so worried or scared about anything else, but this particular issue was something that could indeed hold her tightly.

"Are you addicted to movies or what? What are we watching? ’ET’ again?" Emma capitulated, quickly changing the subject to avoid embarrassment.

Damien watched Emma’s swift change of mood, grateful she understood the meaning of "a wise person adapts to circumstances."

He reclined on the bed, leaving space for Emma to sit.

With a beckoning gesture, Emma got his hint and, albeit reluctantly, walked over and sat down.

Damien, already accustomed to Emma’s perfunctory attitude, wrapped an arm around her, "Don’t fall asleep this time."

"That was an accident," Emma paused, "But if you’re going to watch something like ’Wall Street’ or ’The Legend of Dubai,’ I can’t promise I won’t fall asleep."

Even though these were far more interesting than documentaries like "A History of the World Economy," they still had a soporific effect.

Damien Sterling shook his head, turning on the projector to bring up a film, leaning over to ask Emma Hart, who lay in his arms, looking utterly bored.

It seemed as though nothing but resumes could spark her interest anymore.

"Which department did you apply to?" he inquired.

Emma responded, her tone easing, "I applied to the Design Department."

The man frowned, "The Design Department? Weren’t you studying business management?"

"I’ve always loved design. Choosing my major wasn’t really my decision," she explained.

It was her grandmother who, having heard somewhere that a degree in economics could lead to lucrative positions in private companies, insisted on it.

The cost of studying design seemed too steep for her grandmother, who was adamant about not bearing such expenses, preventing Emma from pursuing her passion in design.

Emma mused that had she studied design, she might have become a renowned designer by now.

A smile, impossible to conceal, spread across her lips as she indulged in her fantasies.

Coming back to reality, she noticed Damien Sterling, who had been watching her for how long she couldn’t ascertain.

Why did she always end up embarrassing herself in front of this man?

"What’s making you so happy? I’m right here in front of you. What could possibly be more pleasing than my presence?"

Damien Sterling remarked, casually selecting a movie on the projector, his tone suggesting he was merely stating a fact.

However, for Emma Hart, such a statement was unbearable.

Being by his side was perhaps the most painful thing for her, unaware of where Damien Sterling’s confidence stemmed from.

Probably from other women, she thought, but certainly not from her.

Inwardly, she rolled her eyes at Damien Sterling.

"Alright, let’s watch this," he said.

Emma Hart found herself staring at the screen displaying "The Devil Wears Prada."

If she remembered correctly, the film narrated the tale of a newcomer in the professional world transforming into a rising star through sheer effort.

"Inspirational, huh?" Emma looked towards Damien Sterling with a puzzled expression, finding it hard to believe he had chosen this film for her to watch at such a pivotal moment without any ulterior motive.

Could this have been a mistake, similar to when he accidentally chose "ET"? Emma was skeptical about such coincidences.

"Why are you having me watch this?" she asked.

"To write a review," he responded.

"What?" Emma was taken aback, but Damien, uninterested in elaborating, simply retorted, "Just watch the movie."

Emma couldn’t help but marvel at her own naivety; with the deadline for submitting her resume to Sterling Group looming at noon the next day, she was here watching a movie instead of completing her application.

A sense of looming failure began to settle in.

Naturally, after the movie, Damien Sterling firmly prohibited Emma from returning to her resume.

"Where are you going?" he inquired as she moved.

"To write that review," Emma replied with a sigh, turning around in resignation.

"Go to sleep!" he commanded.

Emma had spent the entire day on that resume; was she really going to forego rest at this hour?

He wondered if she would end up a workaholic if she joined the company.

"But my resume..." she protested.

"Sleep!" Damien repeated sternly, his patience wearing thin, his cold tone and the darkening expression on his face serving as a clear warning to Emma not to push further.

Emma barely took a step before the room seemed to freeze, and she could almost sense Damien’s growing impatience.

The chilling glare from him brought to mind his cold, deep gaze.

"Alright, alright, I’ll go to sleep," she conceded, defeated.

The next morning, Emma Hart rushed out of bed and after breakfast, she dashed into the study.

Damien paid her no mind.

She immersed herself in her resume, painstakingly crafted with ornate language and a cover designed with newly learned software.

Despite her satisfaction with it, something seemed amiss; the introduction wasn’t quite sincere, as if she were hiding her inadequacies, a notion that frightened her.

Submitting it felt akin to showing off inappropriately.

Hesitant, Emma tapped on the desk, then, with a sudden burst of resolve, she rose from her seat.

Her fingers flew over the keyboard, making a decisive move...

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