Chapter 35: A Chase in a Sports Car

Elvis was a man who appreciated beauty. Surrounded by beautiful women since childhood, he was nonetheless captivated by Olive's delicate face. He'd imagined her, but her beauty surpassed his expectations.

He reached out to touch her, but Olive quickly replaced her mask.

"Mr. Augustine, you've seen me. I'll leave."

She pushed past him and hurried out, washing her face with cold water in the bathroom. She'd worn the mask since childhood, her beauty having caused unnecessary trouble. She'd grown accustomed to it, but since returning from the orphanage, no one had seen her without it—until Elvis.

Emerging from the bathroom, she saw Elvis leaning against the wall in the dimly lit corridor. The yellow light accentuated his handsome features. Dressed in black, his mature indifference couldn't quite conceal his inherent charm. He stood by the ladies' restroom, looking almost swaggering.

Olive admitted he was captivating, an elegant man who effortlessly drew people in. She started to leave, but he extended a leg, blocking her path.

"Mr. Augustine, what does this mean?" she asked, looking up at him.

He stood tall before her, his gaze lingering on her masked face. He reached for her mask, but she pushed him away and ran.

Elvis watched her go, then tucked his hands into his pockets and licked his lips. Harry approached.

"Bro, is she ugly or beautiful?" he asked.

Elvis glanced at him. "Mind your own business," he muttered.

Harry shrank back, then exclaimed, "Bro, what's wrong with your pants? They look stained."

Elvis looked down to see a wet spot on his trousers. The only person who had been sitting on his lap was Olive.

"Bro… hey, bro, where are you going?" Harry called after him.

Olive left KissLand Bar, heading back to the Red Villa, when her phone rang—Elvis. She ignored the call, placing her phone in her bag.

Boarding a crowded bus, she stood by the window. Suddenly, a passenger shouted, "There's a sports car chasing our bus! The man in the car is so handsome! He's looking at me; I'm going to faint!"

The passengers chattered. Olive turned to see Elvis in the sports car; their eyes met. The wind ruffled his shirt as he gripped the steering wheel, revealing his expensive wristwatch.

The bus stopped, and so did Elvis's car. He got out and boarded the bus, the crowd parting to let him through. He stopped before Olive, an elegant, agile jaguar.

"Why didn't you answer your call?" he murmured, his voice captivating.

Olive started to speak, but he cut her off, hugging her. She felt dizzy. She didn't remember leaving the bus or how she ended up in KissLand's presidential suite.

"Elvis, what are you doing?" she asked.

He pushed her onto the bed, then knelt beside her, taking her hand and placing it on his belt. "Open it," he commanded.

"Elvis, are you crazy? I told you, if you want a woman, go find one. KissLand is full of beautiful women," she said.

He frowned. "What are you thinking? You stained my pants."

Olive saw the wet spot. It took a moment to realize she'd spilled wine on him. Her face flushed with embarrassment.

"What are you doing? Quickly open my belt. I need to change my pants," he said.

So he'd brought her back just to change his pants?

"It was my fault. I apologize, but you have hands, don't you? I'm not changing your pants," she retorted.

She tried to pull her hand away, but he insisted, "You better change them, or I'll kiss you. Maybe you're looking forward to my kiss."

Olive hastily began unbuttoning his belt. Her obedience softened his demeanor. She struggled, having never unbuttoned a man's leather belt before.

(The final sentence "King Him" seems out of place and unrelated to the story. I've omitted it.)