Overbearing CEO's Contract Love
Chapter 223: Serving Her Soup

Chapter 223: Serving Her Soup

Emma Hart suddenly laughed, turned around, and announced to everyone, "Folks in the design department, Ms. Greenwood has just said she will stay and work overtime with us. I’m truly touched!"

Emma gracefully turned to face her colleagues, who were already cynical about the unwritten rules where they work late while the leaders head home. But hearing Emma put it that way, they cheered, "Thank you, Ms. Greenwood!"

Emma covertly turned back and raised an eyebrow at Sofia Greenwood, who looked utterly baffled behind her. When had she ever said she’d stay? She had already planned a beauty appointment and to meet friends for an exhibition.

"Emma Hart, you..." Sofia gritted her teeth, fuming at Emma’s triumphant look. She hated Emma so much it made her itch.

Up in the Sterling Group’s executive office, Damien Sterling paced, his brow furrowed and a touch of melancholy tinting his handsome features. He seemed so deep in thought that an onlooker might think he was planning a billion-dollar deal, but he was merely worried about what his woman would eat that evening.

"What have you prepared for them?" Damien asked.

As the assistant listed each dish, Damien’s frown deepened. After reporting the entire menu, the assistant looked up only to find Damien not quite satisfied. "Is that all?"

The assistant nodded sheepishly, explaining, "This is the best the fast food place offers."

"Fast food?" Damien’s frown tightened even more.

The assistant, sweating profusely now, knew these were just employee meals. Should they be treated like VIPs? This was already an unprecedented treat for the staff.

Was Damien having him recite the menu just for this? It seemed his presentation was lacking.

The office atmosphere grew tense; the assistant didn’t know what to do and nervously ran a hand through his hair. Damien, on the other side of the desk, was silent, tapping his fingers on the surface. Each tap sent the assistant’s heart racing.

"Add something extra to that woman’s meal..." Damien began, then paused. The assistant perked up to listen but then bowed his head, not daring to meet his eyes.

Damien pondered. If he made it special, she might think he was giving her preferential treatment. But if her meal was the same as everyone else’s, Damien felt it wouldn’t be nutritious enough. She insisted on coming to work; if she didn’t, her mood would sour, affecting the baby. This woman was becoming more and more of a handful.

Damien Sterling grabbed his phone in a fit of impatience and hurled it away, exhaling deeply as he stood up with his hands in his pockets. The assistant across from him was nearly suffocated with fear, unsure of what Damien’s sudden large gesture could mean.

"Distribute the employee meals."

As the assistant turned to leave, Damien called out from behind him, "Bring Emma Hart to me." Just as the assistant was about to turn around, Damien spoke again, "Wait, tell her there’s a special task for her. Call her up here alone!" The assistant nodded and hurriedly exited the office.

This was an unprecedented moment of hesitation for Damien Sterling, and it was frightening the assistant.

In the design department, everyone looked distressed while working overtime. "Colleagues, here’s the boxed meal the company has prepared for you. Thanks for your hard work."

Despite the availability of boxed meals, it did little to excite the colleagues. When the first person brought their meal back, they were surprised at its richness. "The company’s really generous with us! It seems they really feel bad about the overtime."

A colleague walked over dismissively, "Look at what satisfies you," yet upon seeing the food, admitted it was indeed good.

"Even with the overtime pay, we still don’t want to work late," another colleague remarked while picking up the meal. "My goodness! This meal must cost half of our overtime pay."

Hearing such high praise, colleagues eagerly went to get their meals. The assistant stood by, seeing everyone quite pleased with the quality of the boxed meals.

Emma Hart was also getting up to grab her meal, busy with a design draft on her computer, fully focused on her work.

Just as she was about to stand, the assistant cleared his throat and announced from the podium, "Uh, the leadership upstairs needs someone to help out with a small task. Who will go?"

Upon hearing this, everyone buried their heads, already burdened with overtime and now potentially facing more work.

Seeing everyone’s reluctance, Emma thought it over; since she was partly to blame for the overtime, she volunteered, "I’ll go."

Several colleagues nodded in agreement, "That sounds good."

A tactless colleague with zero emotional intelligence added, "Since the overtime was your doing, it only makes sense for you to go."

Emma didn’t respond, simply following the assistant out of the design department toward the executive elevator. "Hmm?"

Emma Hart looked puzzled as she asked, "Why are we going upstairs? I thought we were supposed to work overtime?" The assistant hesitated momentarily before covering up, "It’s just overtime work, Miss Emma. Please, come with me."

Thus, Emma Hart found herself being led to Damien Sterling’s office.

Once inside, the assistant quietly shut the door, leaving Emma alone with Damien. "Am I here to work overtime? What sort of overtime work could possibly be done in your office, Mr. Sterling? I’m sure I can’t handle whatever task you have here," Emma said, her tone as fiery as if she had been ignited the moment she stepped through the door.

"There is something you can do," Damien said firmly, fixing his gaze on her. Had her audacity grown, fostered by his own indulgence?

Emma noticed a boxed meal on the large office desk. As she looked up, Damien casually pointed at it and commanded succinctly, "Sit down. Eat."

His words were brief and authoritative, carrying an unmistakable tone of command.

"I can eat downstairs," she retorted.

"You will eat here," Damien quickly countered, with an air of finality. His gaze alone seemed to lock her in place.

Emma often found herself overpowered by his commanding voice and his intense, cold stare. Reluctantly, she pulled out a chair and sat down.

The gourmet boxed meal before her appeared to be a notch above those served downstairs. Its appealing presentation was enough to stir her appetite. Emma took out the chopsticks and prepared to eat.

Content, Damien walked over and opened a jar beside him, from which steam rose, revealing it held hot chicken soup—something those downstairs didn’t have.

As Emma ate, she sneakily glanced at Damien, who clumsily took a small bowl from the side and placed it before her. He fumbled with the jar and looked around, his brow furrowing deeper, which puzzled Emma. "What are you looking for?" she asked.

Visibly annoyed, Damien grumbled, "How is there not even a spoon?"

Emma looked again at the small bowl and the soup jar before her, realizing that this man intended to serve her soup.