Overbearing CEO's Contract Love
Chapter 134: The Consequences of Crossing Damien Sterling’s Woman

Chapter 134: The Consequences of Crossing Damien Sterling’s Woman

Suddenly, the van was sideswiped by a vehicle that emerged from a side street, sending the already battered van skidding towards the curb.

The bald man cursed, "Damn it! Who hit us?"

The driver struggled to control the steering, but the screeching of the tires left deep marks on the road.

As the van fought to maintain balance, several SUVs unexpectedly charged towards them from both the front and the side, forcefully bringing the van to a halt like it was caught between the jaws of a vise.

The situation escalated rapidly, leaving no time for the van’s occupants to react before they were dragged out by several muscular men like lambs to the slaughter.

Then, unexpectedly, a loud buzzing filled the air. Why would there be a helicopter here?

The men, now battered, looked around at the circle of luxury cars that had quickly formed around them.

Gathering such an array of high-end vehicles so swiftly was not something ordinary people could manage.

The line of bodyguards that seemed to drop from the sky rivalled the speed of American soldiers!

The helicopter hovering above landed in front of them.

Several people knelt on the ground and looked up at the helicopter.

The magnificent "Sterling" was outlined in gold on the helicopter.

Sterling? Several men looked at each other, "Could it be the Sterling Group?"

That name alone could shake the city to its core. Had they inadvertently crossed someone connected to the Sterling Group?

The more the men thought about it, the more terrified they became, especially as a man descended from the helicopter and approached them.

Damien Sterling’s imposing aura enveloped everyone.

His expressionless face and the ambiguous intensity in his gaze added to the intimidation, his presence cutting through the crowd like a cold, blinding flash of light.

The once brash men now knelt, pale and trembling, never imagining they had provoked a figure from the underworld.

A mere word from Damien Sterling was enough to scatter their souls, consigning them to an infernal abyss from which there was no return.

As Damien approached, the air seemed to drop in temperature with each step.

The men, kneeling and begging for mercy, pleaded, "Mr. Sterling, we didn’t recognize your greatness. We had no idea this lady... this miss was someone you knew. Please, spare our worthless lives!"

They continued to kowtow desperately, their heads thumping against the ground.

Emma Hart was escorted before Damien Sterling, "Mr. Sterling, Miss Emma has only sustained some superficial injuries."

Damien’s hawk-like, proud eyes fell on Emma’s cheek.

Was this merely a superficial injury? A woman he himself would hesitate to even touch, harmed by another man?

A cold, bloodthirsty glint in Damien’s eyes ignored the pleas for mercy from the men, his voice icy, "Who hit her?"

The men hesitated before ultimately pointing to the bald man.

Damien’s gaze turned venomous.

The bald man, already petrified, begged for mercy in a voice tinged with despair, "Mr. Sterling... Please spare me!"

In a swift motion, Damien took a long knife from his assistant and stabbed it into the man’s hand, "Was it this hand that you used to hit her?"

The air was filled with the man’s horrifying screams as blood seeped continuously from his palm, his complexion ashen, lips turning purple.

The assistant inquired about the remaining men, "Mr. Sterling, what should we do with the others?"

Damien glanced dismissively, "Do I need to deal with that?"

The assistant nodded, "Understood."

Days later, those men were never seen in City A again.

Rumors spread that they were sent to work as laborers in remote African countries or sold into unusual performances in Southeast Asia...

At the hospital, Damien insisted Emma undergo a brain scan.

"I’ve told you many times, the car didn’t even hit me," Emma protested as she was pushed toward the CT room.

Despite her objections, he was adamant about the full body check-up, especially a scan of her head, fearing the slap might have caused a concussion.

Emma was reluctantly escorted into the examination room, and considering Damien’s concern, the doctors decided to keep her for observation despite the scans showing no issues.

The thorough examination revealed every single injury on Emma’s body, no matter how minor, all meticulously documented.

The hospital, funded by Sterling Group, dared not neglect their duties with Damien personally waiting; their future depended on it.

Thus, Emma’s freedom was restricted, confined to her hospital bed.

"I’m fine!" she insisted for the tenth time, moving her legs, "Look, nothing’s wrong with me."

Damien Sterling was seated on the sofa, legs crossed, leaning back against the cushion, his gaze piercing as he silently scrutinized Emma Hart.

Understanding his mood, she lowered her head and muttered, "I’m hungry."

"What do you want to eat?" he inquired.

"I don’t know. I need to go down and see to figure out what I’m in the mood for."

Damien made a call, "Get me a variety of specialties from within a five-mile radius of here."

"Is that enough?" he asked coldly.

"I can’t eat that much!" Emma stared at Damien, bewildered by his extravagance.

Had he suddenly become so obsessive? It was as if he intended to provide for a disaster relief area.

Surely, even a busload of evacuees couldn’t consume so much.

"Aren’t you hungry? You’ll have enough to eat now," Damien threatened coldly.

Emma had thought he was jesting, but to her astonishment, the assistant soon returned, laden with bags and boxes of food from well-known eateries nearby.

Damien watched Emma’s reaction with satisfaction, "Eat."

Such wastefulness was baffling to her; couldn’t he be a bit more frugal?

Emma’s desire wasn’t really about the food; she just wanted to step outside, to take a walk and not be cooped up in the hospital.

Seeing all the food made her lose her appetite entirely.

She edged towards the bed, preparing to get off, "Where are you going?" his cold voice asked.

"To the bathroom!" Emma retorted, hoping he would finally allow her some privacy.

Surely, she couldn’t be expected to stay in bed for days over a minor injury.