Overbearing CEO's Contract Love
Chapter 80: Becoming Gentle

Chapter 80: Becoming Gentle

Damien Sterling’s long arm swept Emma Hart into his embrace, and without any resistance, much like a lamb led to slaughter, she moved in sync with him until she was fully ensconced in the car’s backseat.

The door shut firmly beside them, with Damien taking a seat right next to her.

Pressing a button, Damien slightly lowered the car window by half an inch.

Through the tinted glass, Emma could see Ethan Turner nodding and bowing as he spoke with Damien’s driver, his voice carrying a sharp edge.

"Please inform Mr. Sterling that once the money is received, I will fulfill my promise. There will be no further ties between Emma Hart and myself."

Emma had every reason to believe that Damien had deliberately lowered the window that half-inch just so she could hear clearly.

Was this man’s cruelty not yet satisfied with the heartbreak he’d already inflicted? Was falling into despair not enough for her?

He seemed intent on rubbing salt into her wounds. How much more did he want her to suffer?

Looking into the distance, a surge of hatred welled up in Emma’s eyes.

Damien pressed a button to lock the car doors.

Emma turned coldly, forcibly pulling up the corners of her mouth into a semblance of a mocking smile.

This sarcasm was directed at Ethan Turner, at herself, and at Damien Sterling.

Did he think she would get out of the car to confront that man, to argue out some truth?

No, she truly had no more energy left for such things. As if she had been blind, all those years of emotion wasted.

Who hasn’t encountered scum in their youth? But why, Emma Hart wondered, did she have the misfortune of meeting one after another?

"Given up, have you?" Damien’s fingers lightly touched Emma’s cheek, his lips coming close as he pressed for an answer.

Given up? Emma felt as if her heart had been sealed by ice, swearing never again to be moved by anyone. Those who fall in love always end up heartbroken.

Emma turned her face away indifferently, her eyes, bloodshot, showing a cold detachment from everything, "What does it matter to you?"

Whether she had given up or not, was she supposed to give her heart to Damien Sterling? His question was a flaw in itself, almost laughable.

Without a doubt, Emma was taken back to Damien’s villa.

She had no energy left to ponder how Damien would handle the wedding affairs.

After all, he could easily manipulate any situation to his advantage with a simple flick of his wrist.

Moreover, their wedding was never about the blessings of ordinary people; it was just another social event for the wealthy.

Upon returning to the villa, Damien Sterling had already instructed Mrs. Harris to prepare a lavish spread of food.

However, Emma Hart found herself staring at the exquisite dishes without any appetite, feeling utterly indifferent.

Emma made her way upstairs, only to be abruptly pulled back by Damien’s long arm. "Time to eat."

"I don’t want to," she protested.

"There are many things you don’t want," Damien said, his voice laced with command, leaving no room for doubt about who made the decisions.

Was she not even in control of something as simple as eating? Was her life so firmly in his grasp that she had lost the right to make even this small decision?

The courage and resolve it had taken her to make this stand seemed laughably futile now.

Why must her fate be so fraught with hardship? Tears involuntarily welled up in Emma’s eyes.

As a tear escaped, Emma quickly reached up to wipe it away. She didn’t want to show any weakness in front of Damien Sterling.

But her tears wouldn’t stop. What was she to do?

Watching Emma’s tear-filled eyes, Damien felt a twinge of pain in his heart.

His heart had always been as hard as steel, impervious to anyone else’s plight. Yet, her crying always managed to shake him, time and time again.

His lips parted as if he was about to say something, but after a moment’s hesitation, he swallowed his words.

Just as Emma didn’t want to show her vulnerability, Damien preferred to maintain his cold exterior in front of her.

"You may not be hungry, but the child inside you needs to eat," Damien stated, lifting her arm to lead her towards the dining room.

Emma looked up, fighting back tears, her defiance plain to see.

Damien swept his gaze over her, then stooped to lift her in his arms. "If you won’t walk, I’ll carry you."

How could this man... Emma found herself at a loss for words to describe him.

Resting against Damien’s chest, feeling his steady heartbeat and solid frame, her hand reached out, her fist clenched, ready to strike him but she hesitated.

What was the point? Whether she hit him or not, he would still carry her to the dining table. If she refrained, perhaps he might be less cruel to her.

A rueful smile crossed her face, reflecting not just irony but also Emma’s resignation to her circumstances.

Emma Hart was seated at the table, and without so much as a question, the man began to serve the food. Before Emma could react, a dish was already being offered to her lips.

"Eat!" The command was simple and forceful, leaving no room for discussion.

Emma turned her head away; she didn’t want to eat, truly didn’t. Even if she did, she wouldn’t want the food tainted by Damien Sterling’s touch, which would only make her feel nauseated.

"I won’t eat."

Damien Sterling forcefully stuffed a piece of sea cucumber into Emma’s mouth, his action too aggressive, causing the fork to accidentally jab her mouth.

Emma winced in pain, instinctively covering her mouth with her hand.

At that moment, with a "thud," Damien hastily put down his utensils and reached out to touch Emma’s lip corner.

His usually cold eyes were now carefully observing Emma, gently asking, "Does it hurt?"

Looking at Damien, Emma couldn’t shake the feeling that this was not the Damien Sterling she knew. How could he suddenly show such tenderness?

Was it out of pity for her?

Impossible. That man was a devil, a bloodthirsty fiend.

"So careless!" While Damien verbally chided Emma, his touch became even gentler.

Emma turned her face away. Such features combined with such tenderness were hard for any girl to resist. If she continued to look, Emma feared she might lose herself in this illusion of gentleness.

She reminded herself repeatedly that this was all a facade.

Bowing her head, Emma picked up her utensils. This was the best way to avoid being constantly faced with Damien’s handsome features—by doing what he wanted, what he liked.

Like now, which was to eat her meal properly.