Overbearing CEO's Contract Love
Chapter 69: Beginning Repayment

Chapter 69: Beginning Repayment

"Damian Sterling, I’ll repay every cent I owe you, and what my grandmother owes!"

"You seem to have forgotten someone. Ethan Turner," Damian paused. "I might waive interest for others, but for Ethan Turner? For a man? I’m less inclined to be lenient, so I will be charging interest."

"How much?"

Only Emma would naively think Damian was truly interested in the interest.

Damian’s words were a clear message to Emma. His only aim was to corner her completely.

"Ten percent!" Damian stated coolly.

"What?"

This was more exorbitant than the worst loan sharks. Damian Sterling was deliberately making this difficult.

Damian’s hand lingered at Emma’s neck, his touch tentative. "Emma Hart, how about it? You can choose to repay the debt or not."

"I will repay it!" Emma said firmly.

"With what?" Damian asked, his tone turning ominously dark.

Emma Hart buried her head deeply, well aware of her penniless state and the implications of his words.

Her only choice was to accept the merciless fate laid before her.

"I’ll repay with myself, starting today. I’ll be obedient, and if you wish, I’ll repay the debt in this manner."

Damian Sterling’s lips curled into a satisfied smirk. "Good, very good. That’s my preferred method as well."

He had prepared a contract, clearly outlining Emma’s expenditures on that credit card.

Emma wasn’t surprised by such caution from a man like him. Without scrutinizing the contract, she hastily signed her name.

"Aren’t you going to read it?" Damian took the folder from Emma, his brow slightly furrowed, an unexpected look of concern on his face.

He wondered if she would sign her life away so readily to anyone else. How had this woman survived this long without being utterly exploited?

Emma snatched the document back from Damian and boldly signed her name, perhaps the most defiant act she had performed in his presence.

To her, reading or not made no difference. What could change? The exorbitant ten percent interest was his to demand anyway.

In Damian’s presence, rules meant nothing; he was the ultimate judge.

Emma’s stubbornness persisted, and if anything about her was particularly alluring to him, it was this very obstinacy.

"Fine, have it your way," Damian said, contentedly taking the document and reviewing it.

His gaze then returned to Emma’s tear-stained, pitifully appealing face. "Then let’s begin repayment now."

"What?" Before Emma could react, Damian had swept her up and was heading towards the door.

Soon, she found herself in a black Bugatti. The man beside her seemed in a suddenly good mood for some reason, yet Emma remained deeply subdued.

"Where are we going?"

"After all this, you must be starving," Damian said nonchalantly to Emma, as if nothing had happened.

Emma Hart gazed at the man before her, his high-end suit impeccably smooth, as if he were merely a spectator in the unfolding events.

His face was a calm surface, betraying none of the fury that had raged just moments before.

This unflappable demeanor made him all the more intimidating in Emma’s eyes.

"What would you like to eat?" he asked.

"Anything," Emma responded indifferently, her appetite lost to her tumultuous thoughts.

They drove through the bustling streets, towering trees blurring into the night as they sped by under the moonlight.

Eventually, they arrived at a quaint restaurant hidden away in an alley.

Its unassuming entrance, topped with a traditional roof and fronted by red lanterns boldly marked "Private," belied the exclusivity within.

As they entered, Emma was met with a surprising scene.

A faux mountain with a misty fountain stood at the entrance, giving the impression of stepping into a realm of fantasy.

The courtyard was seemingly deserted, yet the private dining rooms glowed warmly.

A buzz of activity hummed beneath the calm exterior.

A middle-aged woman approached Damian Sterling, her initial surprise at seeing him quickly masked by a practiced calm.

"Do you have any rooms available?" Damian asked.

"Of course, Mr. Sterling! We would find one for you even if there weren’t any," the woman replied obsequiously, her smile ingratiating.

Damian’s hand casually rested on Emma’s waist, drawing her closer into his embrace. To onlookers, they appeared as a couple deeply in love.

In a secluded part of the courtyard, they were led to a spacious room.

Its decor, rich with royal opulence, was luxurious to the point of being ostentatious. The room dazzled with gold and glitter, captivating the eye.

As Emma and Damian took their seats, attendants promptly served aromatic tea in an ornate, jewel-encrusted bronze kettle, its grandeur reminiscent of ancient royalty.

Emma wondered if Damian was here to relish in imperial indulgence.

The waiter placed the menu before them and discreetly left. The ordering system was fully automated, requiring just a light touch to select dishes.

"Take a look, choose what you’d like," Damian encouraged, sliding the menu towards Emma.

Emma’s hands rested idly in her lap, her gaze fixed vacantly on the menu. She had no real interest; any food that could fill her stomach would suffice.

Damian Sterling observed Emma Hart’s slightly displeased expression, aware she was probably still upset. Yet, it didn’t seem to concern him much.

He reached out his slender arm to touch her hand, only to feel its coldness.

His expression darkened momentarily as he firmly grasped Emma’s hand, feeling its chilly temperature.

"Bring something to warm her hands," Damian commanded loudly towards the staff outside.

"Yes, sir," came the immediate, flustered response.

Shortly, a hand warmer was brought, its design bearing an ancient charm.

Damian tested its warmth in his hands first, ensuring it was just right before handing it to Emma.

Emma withdrew her hand, tucking it into her coat pocket, her voice detached, "It’s fine."

"Do we have to wait until it’s not fine?" Damian frowned, his voice stern as he firmly placed the hand warmer in her hand.

It had to be said, the temperature of the hand warmer was perfect, comfortably warming her hands.

Emma couldn’t fathom why her hands were so cold; perhaps it was the aftermath of recent events.

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