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. And during those three days, she hadn't called or texted. Yet, here she was, searching for him. He couldn't understand her audacity. Shouldn't she be afraid of him?

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

The receptionist and senior staff gasped. They didn't understand her actions, but feared for her safety; no one dared defy their CEO. Elvis's impeccably pressed black trousers were now dusted with dirt from her sandals. He grabbed her wrist. "Enough."

"No, I want to kick you," Olive retorted, kicking him repeatedly.

Elvis pulled her into his arms. Her body bumped against 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 defiance excites me. You know I'm struggling to control myself."

Olive scoffed, her hands pressing 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 small hand. Seeing the seriousness in his eyes, she hesitated. Gently, he lifted and hugged her tightly. Olive wrapped her arms around his neck.

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

Elvis looked at her. "Don't worry about them; they're all blind."

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

He dropped her by the elevator wall, pressing her against it. "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. A smile spread across his face as he studied her outfit. "What are you wearing? How did you know I liked this?"

Olive smiled, thinking him lustful and a little bad. He reached out and pulled one shoulder strap of her dress, lifting her chiffon shirt. Olive immediately caught his hands.

"I said it's a minor injury. It's healed."

Elvis touched 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.