Overbearing CEO's Contract Love
Chapter 27: It’s not that I don’t want to eat

Chapter 27: It’s not that I don’t want to eat

The man pressed his fingers against his temples, sighing at the complication.

After a moment, his handsome brow relaxed, and he spoke languidly, "Understood. I’ll have something sent over shortly."

Is there a problem money can’t solve? Only one: not enough of it.

Inside the villa’s room.

Mrs. Harris carried a bowl of porridge into the room, along with a piece of paper.

"Miss Emma, please eat something. This... Mr. Sterling insists you just need to safely deliver the baby, and you can fill in any amount on this check."

Emma Hart glanced at the check. This tactic again?

But he was indeed generous, allowing her to name her price. His spending was truly lavish.

With a cold laugh, a lonely expression crossed Emma’s face as she looked up and asked, "Mrs. Harris, do you also see me as a woman blinded by greed?"

Mrs. Harris immediately shook her head.

"Miss Emma, you’re not like those other women. I know you might not want to stay here, with Mr. Sterling, but please... don’t torture yourself or the child like this." Tears choked Mrs. Harris’s voice, her concern for Emma genuine.

Emma’s lips curved into a faint smile.

"Thank you, Mrs. Harris. I don’t mean to make things difficult for you. I truly don’t feel like eating." With that, Emma closed her eyes, lay down, and turned to sleep.

Time passed, uncertain if she was dead or alive, until the rumble of a car engine outside suggested another day was drawing to a close.

Blinding light hit Emma Hart’s face, making her squint.

Weakly, she raised her arm to shield her eyes, glimpsing Damien Sterling approaching her bed through her fingers.

"Is this how you’ve been caring for her?" Damien’s voice was laden with reproach as he addressed Mrs. Harris.

"It’s not Mrs. Harris’s fault. I chose not to eat," whispered Emma, her voice so faint from last night’s ordeal and a day without food that she barely heard herself.

"Fine, since it’s not about anyone else, now you drink this porridge," commanded Damien Sterling with an authoritative tone.

In his eyes, he was the sovereign, the ruler.

Such arrogance. He might control everyone, but he couldn’t control her, Emma Hart.

Damien’s presence sank the mattress as he sat beside Emma.

Effortlessly, he lifted her, as one might a pet, propping her against the headboard.

He brought the bowl closer, scooping a spoonful with a steely gaze and that intimidating aura, he ordered, "Open your mouth!"

Emma Hart’s lips remained tightly sealed, her head stubbornly turned away.

Damien issued the command again, but Emma blatantly ignored him.

"I never repeat myself. I’ve already made an exception. If you want me to say it a third time..." Damien’s eyes were icy, as if he was on the verge of devouring her.

In a swift motion, Emma knocked the bowl from Damien’s hand, scattering porridge across the luxurious carpet.

Rage surged through Damien, veins bulging on his clenched fists, his expression darkening intensely.

Mrs. Harris, in a panic, exclaimed, "Sir, the child in Miss Emma’s womb..."

Hearing this, Damien’s fists unclenched, his expression softening as he said deliberately, "Go and get another bowl."

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