Chapter 108: Let's Quarrel

"What?"

Mr. Henry turned and looked at the lemon tree in the back garden. He was an old man, most afraid of sour things, and lemons topped that list.

"Young master, may I kneel before you?" Mr. Henry pleaded, his hands trembling.

He glanced at Mrs. Samantha, silently asking for help. Mrs. Augustine subtly signaled him to hold on and not panic.

Mrs. Samantha, turning to Elvis, said kindly, "Elvis, dear, Uncle Henry is too old. How can you ask him to eat half a lemon tree?"

Elvis glanced at his grandmother. "I forgot Grandma likes lemons, too. How about you eat half the tree, and Uncle Henry eats the other half?"

Mrs. Samantha tapped the table helplessly. "Henry, this is your fault. As adults, we take responsibility for our actions. The lemons are yours."

Mr. Henry stood speechless and defeated, his legs wobbling as he prayed for a change of heart from Elvis.

Olive took a deep breath, tugged at Elvis's sleeve, and said, "Grandma, Uncle Henry, Elvis is only joking. Right, Mr. Augustine?"

Elvis stared into Olive's dark eyes. Olive blinked repeatedly, imploring his agreement.

A frown creased Elvis's face. Not wanting to miss her chance, Olive tiptoed and kissed his right cheek.

Elvis's eyebrows relaxed. To claim credit, Mrs. Samantha muttered to Mr. Henry, "It'll be alright."

Mr. Henry, previously quivering, vowed to always stay close to Olive, believing only she could calm Elvis.

Olive moved away from Elvis. "Grandma, I'll be upstairs."

"Bye, Olive," Mrs. Samantha replied happily.

Olive went upstairs. "Grandma, I'll be upstairs, too," Elvis muttered, following her.

Mrs. Samantha laughed. "Sure, you both go ahead."

Elvis entered the room and saw Olive packing medical books into a bag. "Mrs. Augustine, are you going somewhere?"

Olive stopped packing. "Mr. Augustine, I wanted to discuss something with you. I'll be sleeping at the research institute from now on. I know Pamela will be watching for any sign of conflict, so I want to give her a show."

Elvis, unbuttoning his shirt, stopped. He walked over to her, scoffed, and asked, "Do you need money?"

Olive blinked, feigning incomprehension. "What?"

"I know I'm silly and sweet," Elvis chuckled.

Olive stood tall, her eyes fixed on him. "You're extraordinary. Thousands of girls are fascinated by you."

Elvis shook his head. "How are you planning on giving Pamela a show?"

Olive moved closer, rubbing against him. "Mr. Augustine, I just need your help for a little while."

Elvis swallowed hard, anger evident on his face. He roughly pushed her onto the bed. "What help do you need?" he glared.

"Mrs. Augustine," he said, "I don't like you associating with anyone, not even Uncle Henry. Let's make our relationship public. It's time for you to bear my name!"

Olive's heart pounded. Their marriage was a secret, bound only by contract.

She took a deep breath and nodded vigorously. "Yes, it's time."

Elvis climbed onto the bed, pulled her into his arms, and cupped her chin, kissing her lips. Olive pushed him away and ran from the room.

Olive walked out of the Red Villa. The evening breeze cooled her hot face. She was ready to return to the institute.

Some celebrities from LA, the same group with Pamela from the Kissland bar, approached her.

"Yo, isn't that the internet celebrity, Olive?" the tallest one said.

"Olive, are you okay? Don't you have to serve that old man tonight?" another mocked.

"Where's President Augustine? Oh, don't tell me he kicked you out!" the third added, and they laughed.

They were jealous of Olive, knowing everyone expected her to be discarded by Elvis. She feigned sadness and started to walk away.

The women wanted to continue taunting her, but a tall, handsome figure approached. Elvis's cold gaze silenced them, and they quickly left.

Olive froze. She had asked him to pretend they were fighting. Why was he following her?

Without looking at him, she quickened her pace. After a distance, she turned, shocked to see him trailing behind.

She glared, urging him to go home. He clasped her wrist. "Get in the car, I'll take you to the academy."

Olive winked, reminding him the celebrities were still watching. When he didn't comply, she shook off his hand.

He grabbed her shoulders, pressing her against a lamppost. "Mr. Augustine, what are you doing? We're fighting, aren't we?" Olive said nervously.

Elvis stared into her eyes. "Hush."