Overbearing CEO's Contract Love
Chapter 42: This is Not Home

Chapter 42: This is Not Home

A prenatal skin care treatment wasn’t a small expense for the average person, let alone having someone come to the house for it.

Clearly, money meant nothing to Damien Sterling; luxurious living was his norm.

But Emma Hart didn’t quite like the word ’home’ as used by Damien Sterling.

Here? How could this place ever be considered a home?

In Emma Hart’s eyes, a home was a sanctuary of mutual affection, warmth, and love.

Yet, this place bore no resemblance to such words; it was merely her cage.

Sterling Group.

Damien Sterling’s phone rang, his personal line, mostly used by his circle of friends.

Without looking up, Damien’s hand fumbled beneath the stack of documents to find his phone, his eyes never leaving the contract.

His ability to read rapidly and multitask without error was a skill he’d mastered over time.

"Hello," he answered, his voice cold and detached, a demeanor he maintained with everyone, exuding an air of superiority.

"Come out tonight, have some fun. It’s been too long since you hung out with us, bro."

Glancing at his watch, Damien noted it was about time to wrap things up.

The caller was Felix Morrow, the heir to the Morrow empire.

The Morrows had only this one son, and business alliances necessitated Damien’s occasional mingling with this crowd of so-called friends - a mere diversion.

"Alright, the usual place."

"Great, I’ll bring a few good bottles and wait for you, brother," Felix Morrow said, his voice laced with mirth.

Crimson.

As night fell, the neon sign of Crimson, the city’s largest entertainment club, shone brilliantly.

The place was heavily guarded, not just anyone could stroll in.

A black Maserati sped towards the club, its roaring engine turning heads on the streets.

In the car, Damien Sterling adjusted the watch on his wrist, one worth as much as a piece of land.

He elegantly stepped out, striding confidently towards Crimson.

The security at the entrance recognized Damien Sterling instantly, saluting him promptly as a sign of respect.

The manager, spotting Damien’s arrival, was all smiles.

He had been restless for days when he heard Damien had visited a rival club. Losing Damien meant losing a super-patron.

"Mr. Sterling, it’s been a while since your last visit," the manager said, eagerly following Damien.

Damien raised his finger slightly, silently signaling the manager to be quiet.

The Black Gold 888 room, an exclusive VIP chamber, was always reserved solely for Damien Sterling.

Inside, Felix Morrow and a few friends had already started the night.

The table was adorned with bottles of fine wine, each worth tens of thousands.

Leaning seductively on the sofa next to Felix Morrow was a woman with stunning looks, her makeup impeccable, and her long wavy hair partially covering her bosom.

She moved sinuously to the music, her alluring figure captivating.

"This is Coco, the latest hot star," Felix introduced her.

As Damien sat down, the woman tactfully approached, draping her arm over his, inching closer to him, employing all her charm to please him.

Even a star like her bent over backward to please Damien Sterling, yet he thought of that one woman, Emma, who lacked just that – was she incapable or simply unwilling?

A shadow crossed his eyes as he pushed away Coco, grabbing a bottle of wine from the table, his gaze growing dark.

Was Emma Hart such a good actress, deceiving him, or did she genuinely not care?

Was there really a woman in this world who dared to be indifferent to Damien Sterling?

In the early morning, Emma Hart awoke to find no one beside her. Had Damien Sterling not come to her room?

The house was quiet below, and glancing at the clock, she noticed it was already 9 a.m.

It was rare for her to sleep in this late; Damien must have gone to work already.

"Miss Emma, are you hungry?" Mrs. Harris was busy in the kitchen.

"Yes, a little." Emma hadn’t eaten all night, and now her stomach was rumbling.

Approaching Mrs. Harris, Emma casually inquired, "Did he not come back last night?"

"Oh, Mr. Sterling returned quite late, smelling of alcohol. He probably didn’t want to disturb Miss Emma, so he went to another room."

Emma felt a pang of disappointment hearing this.

She had harbored a faint hope that Damien had stayed out, given his reputation as a playboy – his nature wasn’t so easily changed.

If that were the case, she would have been ecstatic.

Like he said, there were plenty of women eager to bear his child; it didn’t have to be her.

Better for someone to replace her quickly.

Emma strolled around the small garden as usual before returning to the kitchen to make juice.

Noticing the special green plants in the garden were nearly gone, yet there was still no reaction in her womb.

She had heard that the larger the child grew, the harder it was to miscarry.

Drinking the juice, Emma felt no difference and started to worry.Pacing quickly in the living room.

Mrs. Harris, upon seeing her, hurriedly guided her to the sofa, noting that Emma’s daily exercise was only moderate at best.

It seemed that the method of intense exercise wouldn’t be easy to achieve.

Seizing the moment while Mrs. Harris was busy tidying up the room, Emma Hart rummaged through drawers and cabinets in vain, unable to find what she was looking for.

"Mrs. Harris, where is our medicine box?" Emma inquired.

Hearing this, Mrs. Harris became anxious. "Miss Emma, are you feeling unwell? Should I call a doctor?"

"Oh, it’s nothing, just feeling a bit under the weather, probably just tired. I’ll rest for a while," Emma replied, her voice tinged with disappointment.

Returning to her room, Emma felt a sense of helplessness.

Gazing out the window, caged by protective nets, she mused on her lack of freedom compared to the birds outside.

In the evening, Damien Sterling returned home as usual, with no engagements for the day.