Chapter 97: I Want To Be With You

Elvis never expected her to seek him out at the corporation. For three days, he’d avoided contacting her. She hadn't called or texted him either. But now, she was here, looking for him. He couldn't understand why she'd dare approach him; shouldn't she be afraid?

Olive raised her foot and kicked him hard. "What consequence?"

The receptionist and senior staff gasped. They didn't understand her actions, but assumed she was suicidal. No one dared to confront their CEO. Elvis's well-ironed black trousers were now dusted with dirt from her sandals. He grabbed her wrist.

"Enough."

"No, I want to kick you!" Olive kicked him repeatedly.

Elvis pulled her into his arms. Her body collided with his chest. "Let me go! Don't you want a breakup? Huh? Don't you want a breakup?"

His hands moved to her waist. "I don't want to be selfish. Your attitude excites me. You know I'm struggling to control myself."

Olive scoffed angrily, her hands pressed against his chest. "I just want to be with you. I don't know what the future holds, but I want to enjoy every moment. I don't understand why you want a breakup, but if you insist, I'll grant your wish…"

Elvis lowered his head and kissed her fiercely, as if starved for her touch. Olive's body softened; her hands clung to his coat, preventing herself from falling.

Everyone was dumbfounded, wondering about their CEO's relationship with the girl. Elvis quickly released her.

"Olive, I'm sorry, it's all my fault. Are you satisfied? Do you want to hit me again? Then hit me."

He offered his face to her; when she saw the seriousness in his eyes, she hesitated. He gently lifted and hugged her tightly. She wrapped her arms around his neck.

She knew he was strong enough to carry her, but fear remained. "What are you doing? So many people are watching," she whispered.

Elvis looked up. "Don't worry about them; they're blind."

He carried her into the elevator. As it ascended, Olive pushed him. "Mr. Augustine, you can put me down."

He set her down in a corner, pressing her against the wall. "Show me your wounds. I couldn't control myself that night; did I hurt you badly?"

"No, they're minor injuries. Thank God."

"Really? Let me see." He reached for her clothes. He stared at her outfit, a smile spreading across his face. "What are you wearing? How did you know I liked this?"

Olive smiled. She found him lustful and a little bad. He reached out and pulled one shoulder strap of her dress, letting the other hang. He lifted her chiffon shirt.

Olive immediately caught his hands. "I said it's a minor injury; it's healed."

Elvis nuzzled her nose. "Don't be afraid. I'll do nothing; I just want to look."

"No, this is an elevator; it's under surveillance," Olive protested.

"There's no surveillance in my elevator." He removed her chiffon shirt.