Chapter 138/On your knees, Miss Miller

Chapter 138: 138/On your knees, Miss Miller

Chapter 138

**Stephanie’s POV**

Taking a deep breath, I threw the door open with agonizing slowness and stepped inside with extreme caution. My eyes instantly locked in pure shock and genuine admiration that I couldn’t possibly suppress or hide from my features.

I discovered that he had officially donned the clothing, and he looked truly, breathtakingly handsome. The stark contrast between the crisp white shirt and the deep crimson velvet jacket paired with the classic black trousers made him look magnificent, alluring, and terrifyingly breathless!

A spontaneous, warm, and utterly natural smile formed across my lips because I was genuinely proud of my successful professional choice and the mesmerizing way the colors harmonized over his frame.

He caught my captivated gaze with extreme speed, the corner of his mouth tilting up with excessive vanity as he stated with pure arrogance: "If you are smiling and staring in this exact manner... then it inevitably signifies that this is an excellent choice you have succeeded in making."

"Of course, Mr. Vincenti..." I stated with intense eagerness, desperate to reinforce my choice and urge him toward absolute satisfaction so I could finally leave. "You genuinely look stunning, and the coordination is absolute perfection for your date!"

He adjusted the alignment of his crimson jacket with a sickening, highly provocative confidence. "I comprehend that reality perfectly well without requiring your evaluation."

The arrogant, prideful, deeply narcissistic bastard! I bit my lip in pure oppression, muttering in a low whine: "Does this mean you actually like it?"

"It is fine. Acceptable," he responded in a dry tone, looking coldly into the massive mirror before him.

As long as he was going to actively wear it and go out in front of the world, I would absolutely accept that single word as my official warrant of release! I took a rapid step toward the exit door, stating with a faint relief coloring my tone: "In that case, I will be departing for my house now."

He spun toward my position with terrifying speed, anchoring his sharp eyes flat onto my face as he delivered a strict, final ultimatum that froze the blood inside my limbs: "And did I ever grant you permission to depart, Miss Miller?!"

I halted my steps, my entire body stiffening with lethal irritation. I spun my entire torso around to confront him, stating in a sharp tone whose consequences I no longer cared about: "I literally chose your clothes for you myself and you actually liked them! This is the exact labor you demanded of my person, and I have officially finalized it in its entire detail!"

He took a wide stride toward me, shrinking the distance between us to an incredibly suspicious degree, stating in a freezing hiss: "Not entirely, smart girl... step right back inside."

I advanced toward him with furious, deeply resentful steps. He calmly pointed his hand toward a shelf containing wide drawers lined with soft velvet, stating quietly: "Open the second drawer."

I let out a heavy sigh of raw frustration, pulling the second drawer open with highly resentful fingers, only for my eyes to widen in utter, crushing bewilderment. A massive array of luxurious, incredibly expensive, and profoundly rare wristwatches materialized before me.

His stern voice boomed over my head, delivering a commanding order: "Select a watch that is deeply fitting for this coordination."

Ultimately, I surrendered against my will to the bitter reality, my nerves utterly shattered and frayed. Just as I was about to painstakingly bend my torso, he glanced down at my feet yet again.

"The heels..." he stated flatly. "Didn’t you claim mere seconds ago that they would discomfort and restrict your movements? Remove them first."

I bit down on my lip in a sweeping, violent oppression that practically made my heart bleed. Leaning down, I slipped off both shoes in a rapid, highly tensed, and deeply resentful movement.

Then, I dropped to my knees straight onto the carpeted floor, my limbs trembling violently despite the sharp, localized pain ruthlessly squeezing my pelvis due to the suffocating constriction of these idiotic trousers. I glared up at him with unadulterated malice. He stood there in his towering height and imposing mass, monitoring my every movement and the natural contours of my bending body with wide, unblinking eyes like a stone-cold owl tracking its prey in absolute dead blood.

I forced my head down with immense, agonizing difficulty, a brutal pressure clamping over the muscles of my highly irritated abdomen. I locked my eyes onto the dark wooden floor, scanning to see if the cufflink was resting anywhere nearby. Suddenly, I caught its brilliant silver gleam sitting deep within the narrow, dark void directly beneath the leather sofa wedged incredibly far inside.

I let out a sweeping, hopeless sigh of pure frustration. I was forcefully compelled to press my face and chest entirely flat against the carpet, extending my arm with every single ounce of strength I possessed. It was an exhausting, violent, and highly strained stretch to reach the stubborn cufflink, because it sat completely out of my immediate path, while my bloated abdominal muscles and my pelvis were being mercilessly crushed to a punishing degree by the tight trousers that restricted both my breath and my range of motion.

Right in the dead center of that suffocating breath trapped inside my chest, and the violent, agonizing strain of my surrendered limbs stretched across the floor... I suddenly caught the absolute worst, most horrific, and most hideous sound I had ever encountered in my entire existence, violently shattering the silent, desolate room. It was a sharp, loud, and blindingly clear sound of tearing fabric, ripping forcefully from behind originating directly from the explicit center of my backside.

The cold blood in my veins completely petrified in a brand-new flavor of pure terror, and I froze dead in my tracks on the floor like a lifeless corpse, a seismic shock of absolute horror violently rattling my entire being and my very womanhood. A lethal, scorching flush of intense shame instantly devoured my face, my neck, and my entire body so much so that I desperately wished the wooden floor would split wide open in that exact millisecond, damn my existence, and swallow me whole so I could vanish from his sight for eternity.

I clapped my trembling palm over my mouth in a hysterical tremor, thinking in a state of lethal panic and absolute paralysis: *Oh my God... the ultimate scandal!... My cursed trousers genuinely just ripped right open in front of my boss!*