The Substitute Bride: Doted by My Billionaire Husband by Sumpto Midway

Chapter 7: Feeding You, My Mrs. Augustine

His gaze lingered on her lips, hinting at something. He implied the best way to thank a man was with a kiss.

Olive’s heart skipped a beat. Her earlobes flushed crimson. "I don't understand," she said, turning to focus on the scenery outside the window, trying to ignore him.

Elvis saw her avoidance. He recognized her smart, agile, and independent personality.

The car stopped at a traffic light. Olive spotted the most famous cake shop in Los Angeles.

"Want some cake?" Elvis's low voice murmured in her ear.

Her eyes softened. "My mother used to bring me here," she whispered.

Elvis turned the car and pulled over. "If you want some, let's go get it."

The cake shop was a major brand in Los Angeles, especially popular among celebrities. It sold out daily.

Olive had loved cakes since childhood. Her mother frequently brought her there; it was her fondest memory.

Ten years had passed since her last visit. Her eyes itched, and tears welled up. Not wanting Elvis to see her cry, she said, "I'll be in the washroom."

Elvis watched her leave. He had seen her cry; she was still tender-hearted.

He entered the cake shop. Coincidentally, Gabriella and her best friend, Pearl Wright, were also there.

Pearl tugged Gabriella. "Gabriella, you said Olive has a young gigolo. Is that true?"

Gabriella scoffed. "Of course! I saw her being dropped off by a man."

"Gigolos are expensive, and Olive just left the orphanage. Where did she get the money?" Pearl questioned skeptically.

"It depends. Handsome, good-looking gigolos can earn thousands of dollars. Others, not so much," Gabriella explained.

"I need a cake," a deep, charismatic voice announced.

Gabriella and Pearl turned. Elvis stood at the counter, tall and alluring. He was incredibly handsome.

Pearl whispered to Gabriella, "Isn't he lovely?"

Gabriella had never seen such a handsome man. She believed the best combination in a man was power and wealth, but Elvis's elegance surpassed even that. Her heart raced. Pearl whispered again, "Do you think Olive's gigolo is as handsome as this?"

"Nonsense!" Gabriella glared. "For a poor girl like Olive, her gigolo must be fat and ugly. If she could afford this man, I'd call her boss!" Gabriella couldn't believe Olive's gigolo could compare.

"I'm sorry, sir, the last cake has been sold. We're sold out for the day. Come back tomorrow," the manager apologized. Gabriella had bought the last cake.

Gabriella's heart pounded. She stepped forward, ecstatic. "Sir, would you like a cake? You can have mine if you follow me on social media!" She had fallen for Elvis and acted impulsively. She was a high-profile girl, pursued by many, yet with Elvis, she abandoned her pride.

Elvis ignored her. He produced a black and gold card. "Then ask the chef to work overtime and make me one."

The manager glanced at the card. The name 'Augustine' was prominently displayed. Augustine was a well-known surname in Los Angeles. He instantly recognized Elvis. He was sweating; he couldn't believe such a powerful man was in his small shop.

"Sir, one moment. I'll ask the chef to make a custom cake," the manager said, hurrying to the kitchen.

Gabriella and Pearl were confused. Why was the chef making him a custom cake?

Elvis read a newspaper, completely ignoring Gabriella. Humiliated, her cheeks burned. She hiked up her skirt, revealing her thighs.

"Oh, I'm dizzy," Gabriella feigned, falling into Elvis's arms. She closed her eyes, hoping for his embrace.

Instead, with a thud, she landed on the floor. Elvis had subtly moved out of the way.

"Gabriella, do I deserve that?" a soft voice asked.

Gabriella looked up; Olive stood there, giving her a playful wink. Gabriella felt sick. "Olive, why are you here?" she stammered. She suspected her mother had drugged her pizza.

"What happened?"

Elvis appeared, wrapping his arm around Olive's waist. "What took you so long?" Gabriella and Pearl gasped.

"Olive, who is he?" Gabriella demanded. "Didn't you say he was my gigolo?"

Olive smiled. "He is."