Overbearing CEO's Contract Love

In the evening, as the maid returned from grocery shopping, she casually mentioned having seen Mrs. Harris near a marketplace. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝓮𝒘𝙚𝙗𝒏𝙤𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝒐𝙢

Emma, having developed a bond with Mrs. Harris during their time together, realized with a pang of guilt that she didn’t even have Mrs. Harris’s phone number.

Upon hearing the maid’s mention of Mrs. Harris, Emma inquired, "Mrs. Harris? Where is she? Has she found a new job?"

The maid frowned slightly, "It looked like Mrs. Harris. She was picking up vegetable leaves off the ground at the market."

"What?" Emma sank onto the sofa, clutching its arm.

She knew Mrs. Harris’s family was not well-off and how much she had valued her job at the villa.

The thought of Mrs. Harris reduced to collecting discarded vegetable leaves filled Emma with an overwhelming sense of remorse.

...

"Miss Emma, your phone is ringing," the housemaid said, handing Emma her phone.

It was her grandmother again.

"Hello, Grandma," Emma said, her voice revealing her tolerance limit, her face a mask of indifference.

"Emma, your mother is in the hospital! The doctors say they won’t operate without money. What are we going to do? I’m so worried!"

"What? What happened to Mom? Which hospital is she in?" Emma panicked, standing up from the sofa, gripping the phone tightly.

"Your mom was hit by a car while she was out shopping. She’s still unconscious."

Fuming, Emma shouted, "Grandma, can’t you make the deposit first? Save Mom!"

"I... I don’t have the money," the grandmother said with feigned innocence.

Emma abruptly ended the call.

Her grandmother would never part with a dime to save her mother’s life unless it benefited her brother.

It was as if, except for her brother, no one else mattered in the Hart family.

Emma grabbed her coat, ready to rush out, but the bodyguards blocked her, obeying only Damien Sterling’s commands and not allowing her to leave, no matter how much she pleaded.

In desperation, Emma picked up her phone, her hands trembling so much she could barely dial.

Her eyes scanned the screen swiftly, searching for Damien Sterling’s name.

Damien was in a meeting when his phone rang.

He stood up, leaving everyone behind as he stepped out.

"Hello?"

"Let me out, please let them let me go. My mom has been hit by a car, and my grandma won’t pay for her surgery..."

"You can go out," Damien’s voice, cold as ice, pierced through the phone.

Emma knew what that tone meant. There were conditions attached.

"I’ll do anything you say."

"Be obedient for me!"

That had always been Damien Sterling’s condition for Emma.

As long as she complied, he would fulfill all her requests.

Emma Hart’s tears betrayed her, streaming down her cheeks.

She lacked the leverage to negotiate terms with him, at least for now.

After a moment of silence, her eyes laden with infinite sorrow as if she was handing her fate over to a merciless executioner.

She acquiesced, "Okay, I agree."

"Good, I’ll take care of your mother’s situation," Damien Sterling assured her.

Though still uneasy, Emma was aware of Damien’s capabilities.

His reach was vast, and a matter as trivial as this was nothing to him.

In the anxious wait that followed, several days later, Damien finally returned one evening.

Hearing the sounds outside, Emma rushed to the door just in time to see the man, flawless in appearance and stature, ascend the stairs.

Each step he took seemed to intensify the overpowering aura surrounding him, like a tempest or a deity of the night.

As Damien approached, his towering figure loomed over Emma.

Looking down at her, his gaze flickered briefly before he commented in his cool voice, "Why aren’t you wearing shoes?"

Only then did Emma notice her bare feet.

Her haste had made her forgetful.

She wanted to know about her mother’s condition.

Her feet awkwardly entwined, she looked up, but before she could speak, Damien swiftly scooped her up.

His actions were quick and assertive, leaving no room for Emma’s reaction or resistance.

However, the floor was covered with a luxurious cashmere carpet that surely wouldn’t harm her even if she walked on it for half an hour.

Was he overreacting by insisting on carrying her for such a short distance?

But this was Damien Sterling’s way.

His woman, if he chose, could be pampered to the skies.

The only condition was obedience.

Emma Hart was gently placed on the bed.

Half-kneeling, she reached out to Damien Sterling, not sure if it was the damp and cold air outside or something else.

But the moment her hand brushed against Damien’s clothing, she felt an icy chill.

This man was just too hard to get close to.

"How’s my mother doing?" Emma asked timidly, aware she shouldn’t doubt this man’s capabilities.

"Your mother just had a mild concussion. She’ll be fine after a few days in the hospital for observation," Damien informed her.

Emma’s hand slid down, a weight lifted off her heart, and she realized it was just another one of her grandmother’s schemes.

Damien, absorbed in some document on his phone, commanded in a cold voice, "Take off my shirt."

Emma froze on the bed, bewildered. "What?"

She had heard him clearly but was unaccustomed to such tasks.

Take off his shirt?

Couldn’t he do it himself?

Damien glanced at her with a frown.

Emma lowered her head, slowly rising from the bed to stand in front of Damien.

His broad chest contrasted starkly with her slender frame, making her seem like she was nestled against him.

Hesitantly, her fingers touched his slightly trembling Adam’s apple, cautiously undoing each button.

The coolness of her touch on his feverish skin, coupled with the intimate proximity and the contrast between cold and hot sensations, made Damien’s throat bob more pronouncedly.

With a flick, Damien tossed his phone onto the bed, grasped Emma’s timid fingers, and with his other hand, authoritatively encircled her waist.

With a firm pull, she was compelled to draw closer to him.