Overbearing CEO's Contract Love
Chapter 264: I Don’t Need Your Dirty Money

Chapter 264: I Don’t Need Your Dirty Money

"You expect me to stay at home and do nothing? I might as well go to work!" Emma Hart exclaimed, her frustration palpable.

Work, always work—she seemed unable to live without it!

"You are not going!" Damien Sterling interjected sharply.

"So, it was you who had Sophia Greenwood tell me I couldn’t come to the office? Was this sneaky move also your doing?" Emma stood up, hands on hips in a gesture that seemed to underscore her indignation.

Emma, head held high, appeared to be waiting for Damien’s response. Observing her, her face slightly flushed with anger, it seemed she was the one who had become infuriated first.

"Emma Hart, dare to set foot in the company and see what happens!" Damien’s large eyes glinted with undeniable rage. Despite his anger, his features remained strikingly handsome—an infuriating fact indeed. It was as if the creator had spent extra care crafting him.

Emma smirked, seemingly unaffected by the storm brewing in Damien. She calmly sat down, casually crossing her legs. "Well then, if no ice cream, there are still other delights at home—seafood, crab, wine, and more..."

Listing them one by one, she looked up with a feigned expression of distress, "If Mr. Sterling intends to clear out all these, I guess I’ll have to stick to water. You surely can’t cut off the water supply, can you?"

Emma maintained her smile, now adept at leveraging threats against Damien, a tactic that never failed. Damien seemed on the verge of exploding, a sensation seemingly unique to Emma’s provocations. No one else could draw this experience out of him.

"Emma Hart!" Damien’s forehead veins bulged as he was pushed to his limits again by her relentless challenges.

"What is it? Mr. Sterling?" Emma’s tone was defiant, no longer subdued in the face of his mounting fury.

Convinced she could prevail, Emma believed just a bit more persistence might lead to victory, especially since Damien valued the baby she was carrying above all else.

Emma hoped her unborn child wouldn’t resent her for using such tactics, driven by desperation as she was.

In the room, dominated by a palette of cool tones—white wallpaper, plain colored curtains, and stark white bed linens—the ambiance clearly reflected Damien Sterling’s preference for a minimalist style.

The flowers on the nightstand, specially requested by Emma Hart to be bought by Mrs. Harris, were a small concession to enliven the otherwise oppressive space. Yet, the oppressive atmosphere in the room was too dense for mere flowers to alleviate.

Emma Hart, standing amidst this staged setting, was sweating profusely in the palms of her hands. Despite her bravado, she knew she was not powerful enough to negotiate terms with Damien Sterling.

Their eyes locked in a silent battle, a wordless war of wills. Emma’s defiance was palpable; the man’s dark eyes flared with an intensity that spoke of royal command, his authority undeniable and unchallenged.

They stood in a standoff, each waiting for the other to yield first.

Suddenly, music shattered the quiet of the room. Emma rummaged for her phone, pulling it from her pocket to see her brother Max’s number on the screen. Perfect timing, she thought sarcastically, as she promptly hung up the call and raised her eyes to meet Damien’s gaze once again.

The phone rang again—Max calling back. Emma hung up once more, her actions breaking the tense atmosphere.

Damien, perhaps tiring from their intense exchange, relaxed his gaze and looked at Emma sidelong with a mix of fatigue and irritation. As she looked back at him, panicked, Damien sat down, pushed his discomfort aside, and spoke in a low, commanding tone, "Answer it."

"No!" Emma responded defiantly.

"Answer it!" Damien’s voice was a cold command, brooking no argument.

The phone rang again. Clutching it tightly, Emma Hart whispered, "I’ll take this outside."

She had barely taken a few steps when Damien Sterling’s chilling voice stopped her cold. "Take it here!" he commanded, each word heavy with an oppressive force that unwittingly made Emma accept the call under his dominating presence.

With a trembling voice, she answered, "Hello?"

On the other end, Max’s voice was both boisterous and impatient, "Sis! Why did it take you so long to answer? Are you even my sister anymore? Did you get the money together?"

As Max brazenly demanded money, Emma desperately tried to lower her phone’s volume. But no matter how low she set it, Damien, mere inches away, heard everything clearly.

"I’ve got to go, I can’t talk right now!" she rushed out.

"Don’t hang up! Surely your big boss isn’t that stingy!" Max protested.

Hastily, Emma ended the call, her face flushing with embarrassment as she faced Damien across the room.

Damien scoffed, a cold smirk crossing his features. That family is really something, aren’t they? Luckily, it’s just money they want."

His face lit up with a disdainful sneer as he casually said, "So, how much do you need?"

Looking at Damien’s face—arrogant and contemptuous—it felt like a slap after slap on her own face, her skin burning with pain, or perhaps it was her heart that felt pierced by needles.

Money, the thing he least lacked, was always the reason she had to concede. Emma truly despised it now.

It seemed that with money, Damien Sterling could manipulate her at will, everything else be damned.

If Emma had to choose the version of Damien she detested most, it would be this moment—his cavalier attitude about money, using it to coerce her.

Emma hated this side of him, and her pride deep inside wished he wouldn’t measure her worth with money. "I don’t need your filthy money!"

Damien stared at Emma, a shadow of displeasure in his eyes. His least favorite thing was rejection.

However, his dark mood vanished in an instant, replaced by a cold smirk in his shadowy eyes, soon turning into a charming leer. Damien glanced at his wristwatch, his gaze shifting leisurely as he spoke, "Money may smell, but people do love it."

Pausing, his eyes fixed on Emma’s face as he stood and approached her.

In an instant, Damien’s tall frame enveloped her, his presence circling her. Emma felt a chill encompass her body—had the cold he brought in from outside not yet dissipated?