Overbearing CEO's Contract Love
Chapter 65: Intoxication

Chapter 65: Intoxication

Damien swirled the glass, his gaze following the liquid’s motion.

Emma had always disliked this pre-drinking ritual, failing to understand its purpose, perhaps a pastime of the elite. Yet, from Damien, the action seemed exceptionally graceful.

"Drink?" Damien tapped his glass against Emma’s, the clink of the glasses producing a beautiful sound.

Emma took a sip and her face immediately contorted. She disliked the taste of alcohol, especially now, more than ever.

Damien Sterling glanced at Emma Hart’s distressed expression. "Is it that unpleasant? You should know, that single sip could support an average family for a month."

Incredulous, Emma couldn’t help but think if Damien was simply burning money for amusement.

Knowing how many families struggle for a meal, the extravagant and wasteful lifestyle of someone like Damien was unimaginable to her.

Deciding the taste was too unbearable, Emma closed her eyes, raised her glass, and gulped down the wine, feeling it slide from her tongue down to her stomach.

Damien seemed surprised. "What, trying to get me drunk?"

Emma, her lips red and teeth white, replied with a hint of a smile, "I certainly hope so."

Better him than her getting drunk and becoming vulnerable to his whims, she thought.

Her eyes already slightly blurry, Emma watched as Damien poured another glass from the decanter.

Resigned to her fate, Emma thought being oblivious in a drunken haze might be a relief. She lifted the glass, ready to down it in one go, but Damien interrupted.

"Such fine wine, and you’re just going to waste it like that?"

Emma raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Feeling sentimental about it?"

Damien’s gaze shifted nonchalantly. He wasn’t sentimental about the wine, perhaps a bit about her.

Taking advantage of his momentary distraction, Emma lifted her glass and chugged the wine as if it were soda.

"Really want to get drunk?" Damien asked.

Emma’s fingers traced the rim of the glass, the dim light reflecting off the silver edge.

Perhaps it was the alcohol, but she felt surrounded by a halo of white light, a light and airy sensation enveloping her...

Suddenly, Emma’s face lit up with a smile, tinged with sadness. "Pour me another."

Damien swirled the decanter, which had barely enough for one more glass. Emma’s tolerance was decent, but her drunkenness was nearly at the level he desired.

With a slight nod, Damien poured just a bit more into her glass.

Emma Hart, visibly agitated, demanded, "Pour it for me." She reached for the decanter in Damien Sterling’s hand.

Damien, turning his back to her, filled his glass instead. "Can’t have just you drinking, can we?"

Lifting her glass, Emma’s vision blurred, the contours of the man before her fading in and out of focus.

She almost reached out to grasp him, her laughter laced with inebriation.

Damien clinked his glass against hers, allowing the crimson liquid to cascade into her mouth.

His voice, husky and alluring, asked, "Emma Hart, do you really want to leave?"

She met his gaze with certainty, nodding, "Yes, very much so."

Damien’s suppressed anger flickered in his eyes as he continued, "Whose child is it you’re carrying?"

"Whose? It’s a monster’s! A devil’s!" Emma cried, tears streaming down her face, overwhelmed by emotions she couldn’t fathom.

Desperate, she lifted her now empty glass to her lips, a few droplets of wine staining them.

Her lips, naturally soft and tender, turned irresistibly tempting with the addition of the wine’s crimson hue.

Damien, his gaze intense, couldn’t wait any longer.

He stepped forward, capturing her chin, lifting it, his gaze lingering on every delicate feature of her face.

He drew closer, questioning, "Who is it that resides in your heart, Emma Hart?"

Emma, her head spinning, gazed back at Damien with a smile, "In my heart resides..."

His kiss descended like rain, enveloping her lips.

He didn’t want her answer. He just wanted to savor the freshness and softness of this moment. Everything else was irrelevant.

The next morning, Emma woke with no discomfort. Clothes were scattered around the room, and she found herself in a clean nightgown.

Indeed, he was a creature driven by his base desires. She had fallen into his trap.

Emma gently touched her stomach, her expression filled with concern.

Mrs. Harris entered the room, offering a glass of milk. "Miss Emma, you’re awake. The master asked you to drink this."

"Mrs. Harris, where is he?" Emma inquired, her face clouded, seeking confirmation of the previous night’s events.

Mrs. Harris noticed the thoughts swirling in Emma Hart’s mind and hastened to clarify, "Mr. Sterling instructed me to assist you with changing your clothes and bathing last night."

"He didn’t want to disturb your rest, so he opted not to tidy up the clothes on the floor. Mr. Sterling spent the night in the adjacent room."

Emma Hart furrowed her brows at this revelation, a mix of disbelief and remorse flickering through her. It seemed as if she regretted her initial suspicions.

It appeared he did possess some restraint after all.

Upon waking, Emma found Damien Sterling absent.

Her memory from the previous night was fragmented, recalling only the two glasses of red wine she had indulged in, leading to a dizzying loss of awareness.

She couldn’t fathom why she had decided to drink with that person.

"There won’t be a next time!" Emma vowed silently to herself.

Her phone’s ringtone pierced the silence, and she answered.

"Bring $500,000 if you want to save your old flame, or you’ll never see him again," the sinister voice threatened.

"Who is this?"

From the other end, Ethan Turner’s voice came through, filled with desperation, "Emma, don’t come, please don’t..."

His plea was cut short by a sound of violence, clearly someone had struck him.

"Hey! Don’t you dare touch him," Emma exclaimed frantically. "I’m on my way, just don’t hurt him!"

"Fine, the address is coming your way. No tricks," the voice demanded.

The call ended, and a message with the address arrived shortly after – a warehouse in the suburbs.

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