Overbearing CEO's Contract Love
Chapter 169: Easily Angered

Chapter 169: Easily Angered

Emma Hart gazed at the man’s serious face, puzzled by his recent words about crossing into her line.

What did he mean by that? Emma was utterly confused.

"What do you mean ’my line, your line’?" she asked, looking bewildered at him.

"You’ll find out tomorrow!" he teased, enjoying keeping her in suspense.

The gentle, warm morning sunlight kissed Emma’s face, making her feel a heat before she even opened her eyes.

Startled, she touched her cheek, wondering why it felt so warm, and then her eyes fluttered open to find the man too close for comfort.

Emma jolted, "Why are you so close to me?"

She turned her head away and tried to push him, her efforts as feeble as kitten paws against him.

He held her hand and leaned closer, "Stop wasting your energy."

Faced with his dominance, Emma simply turned her head away, refusing to look at him.

"What are you up to now?" she asked, her tone laced with impatience.

Damien Sterling flipped over to sit up, "Get up. It’s almost eight o’clock."

Only then did Emma grope for her phone by the bed to check the time. It really was almost eight. But why was this man still here at this hour?

"Don’t you have work?" she inquired, her voice natural but then she quickly remembered she had work too.

She sat up abruptly, "Oh no, it’s eight o’clock! The old widow in the design department is going to scold me again."

"It’s the weekend," Damien shot her a look.

This woman really lived up to the saying "pregnancy brain." She couldn’t even remember what day it was.

"Oh, is it?" Emma pondered. It seemed right, but these past few days, Damien Sterling had been arranging her schedule so arbitrarily that she had lost track of whether she needed to go to work or not.

It felt like going to work had become a part-time job, while her main task was to accompany Damien Sterling.

Lifting her head, Emma met his icy glare.

She had been lying there since waking up, doing nothing to provoke him. Why was he looking at her like that again?

Her lips parted slightly, "What... what is it now?"

Being with him felt like walking on eggshells, a constant state of alertness akin to the old saying "serving the emperor is like being near a tiger."

Emma couldn’t imagine if she lived in ancient times, how often she might have been executed for minor missteps.

His moods changed faster than flipping through a book.

Emma Hart looked down at herself, pondering what could possibly be the issue.

Her clothes were properly on, and it was just the two of them in the room.

Surely, he wasn’t going to criticize her for dressing too revealingly again, especially considering the rather sensual nature of the sleepwear he had bought for her.

What else could it be?

She certainly hadn’t wet the bed, causing his cleanliness obsession to flare up, had she?

After scrutinizing herself, Emma couldn’t figure out what she might have done to offend the man standing before her.

Following Damien Sterling’s gaze, her eyes finally landed on her cellphone in her right hand.

The man behind her spoke up, "Did I ask you to keep your phone by the pillow?"

Who? It’s not like someone was holding a gun to Emma’s head forcing her to do so... She remembered last night, she had been using her phone before sleep took over, and then she had casually placed it aside.

Wasn’t this her usual habit before pregnancy?

Before Emma could even gather her thoughts to explain, Damien’s tone turned angry, "Do you not want your phone anymore?"

His words instantly made Emma tense up! In this day and age, who could live without their phone? And for her, it was an even more essential tool.

Clutching her phone tightly, she quickly conceded, "I’m sorry, I was wrong. I won’t keep it by the pillow anymore."

Emma was impressed with herself for admitting her mistake so readily. When had she become someone so willing to accept her faults?

Damien’s expression softened upon hearing Emma’s apology.

"Put down your phone. Get ready, and come downstairs for breakfast. Then we’re going out."

"Going out? Where to now?" Emma mused.

Her legs were practically giving out after keeping up with this man’s relentless energy for the past few days.

Since it was the weekend, she thought it might be better to just sleep in.

With a lazy flop back onto the bed, Emma’s action halted Damien’s departure.

It was as if he had eyes in the back of his head, "Don’t lie back down, get up quickly."

Emma sat up, looking at him. It was almost as if he was supernatural. Which of his eyes saw her lying back down?

Nevertheless, she decided it was best to follow his directive and get up sooner rather than provoke him further.

After all, his temper was notoriously easy to ignite and explode.

After breakfast, the driver pulled the car up to the front door.

Oddly, instead of getting back in, he simply opened the door and stepped aside, making way for Damien Sterling to take the wheel.

Today, it seemed, Damien Sterling would be driving himself!

Emma Hart pondered this unusual turn as Damien, already seated and showing a hint of impatience, called out, "Are you getting in or just going to stand there?"

Emma opened the rear door, intending to get in, but was stopped by Damien’s voice, "Sit in the passenger seat."

Emma nodded, acknowledging with a simple, "Oh, got it."

Accustomed to sitting in the back, Emma found the shift to the passenger seat slightly unsettling.

Once seated, she could easily turn her head to see Damien Sterling beside her.

This proximity felt both peculiar and intriguing, reminiscent of how colleagues’ husbands would naturally pick up their wives, with the women seamlessly sliding into the passenger seat—a spot seemingly reserved for those in a close relationship with the driver.

Lost in thought about her own situation, Emma caught Damien’s glance and a subsequent sigh, as if he preferred action to words.

He reached over, pulling her seatbelt toward her—a task he’d undertaken countless times, frustrated by her inattention to safety.

His movements were brisk until his hand neared Emma’s stomach, where his touch softened, carefully clicking the seatbelt into its slot.

Retracting his hand slowly, the gentleness of the action—and his evident caution around her abdomen—sparked a warm feeling inside Emma.

Damien had been showing her his tender side more frequently, was this his way of dramatically changing her impression of him?

"Feeling okay?" Damien asked, his tone cool.

Despite the care in his question, his words seemed to carry a different weight coming from him.

Emma adjusted her seatbelt, feeling no discomfort.

Damien glanced at her abdomen then back at her face.

Emma shook her head, "No, I’m fine." It dawned on her that Damien was expressing concern for her pregnancy.

She moved quite comfortably now, but if he continued to fuss over her like this, she worried that by the time she was eight or nine months along, she might be confined to bedrest.