Chapter 100: Mrs. Augustine Is So Sweet

Patrick had never considered visiting his so-called son-in-law at the Red Villa. The villa was situated in a deserted part of the city.

Patrick hastily declared, "Pamela, I won't go. I heard he's ill. He might pass away in a month or two. I won't go."

Pamela only wanted Olive's husband to appear amidst her cheating scandal. She was certain the entire issue would be blown out of proportion if Olive's husband made an appearance.

"Dad, I don't know how Olive met President Augustine. But a man like President Augustine won't marry Olive, even if she divorces her husband."

"Of course he won't marry her. What chance does Olive have? Pamela, it's you the president will marry." Patrick quickly professed his loyalty.

"Dad, don't worry, I'm determined to be Elvis's wife. But I need your help. In two days, I want you to go to the Red Villa and visit your son-in-law. I want you to inform him about the relationship between President Augustine and Olive. Although he has no power to do anything, the noise he'll generate will help us tarnish Olive's reputation before Elvis," Pamela explained.

Patrick nodded. His hopes for the future depended on Pamela. "It's fine, my child. Dad will listen to you, as long as you can marry into the Augustine family."

Pamela sneered and muttered inwardly, "Olive, if you weren't married, I might have feared you'd take Elvis from me. But you're already married; can you really win this battle?"

The CEO's office was dark and quiet as the wind howled outside. Olive entered the large, exquisite lounge. Elvis took a cold shower and emerged from the bathroom. Olive, already bathed, lay on his bed. When she saw him, she adjusted, making space for him.

Elvis lifted the quilt and lay down. The sheet draped around Olive's chest slipped down. He smiled and said, "Why are you so shy? You want to give me the illusion you're not wearing anything under the quilt?" Olive stared at him, as if she wanted to slap him.

Once the quilt was fully down, Elvis saw she was wearing his black shirt. Her mask was off, and her hair was in a ponytail. He lowered his head and asked, "Can I kiss you?"

Olive sensed a repentant spirit. Previously, he would have kissed her without permission. Olive grabbed the quilt, covering her lips, and shook her head. "No."

"Nevermind," Elvis muttered. He straightened and lay properly.

Olive suddenly pulled the blanket down, raised her head, and kissed him. Elvis was stunned. Olive quickly fell back onto the blanket, her soft giggles filling the air. Elvis reached out, pulling her from under the quilt, and hugged her tenderly.

Olive's hand held a pill. She pointed it at his lips and instructed, "Ah, open your mouth."

"What is this?" Elvis frowned.

"Ecstasy. As long as you take this ecstasy, your soul will be bound to mine. No other woman will seduce you."

Elvis opened his mouth and swallowed the pill. "For my obedience, is there a reward?"

"What reward do you need?"

"I want something sweet."

Elvis hugged her tighter and kissed her domineeringly. He didn't close his eyes; he simply stared at her beautiful face. A few nights ago, he feared she would resist his intimacy, but now her body was in his arms again. He kissed every corner of her lips, his kisses overflowing with love and affection.

Once satisfied, Olive lay on his chest, her hands playing with his pajamas.

"Olive, you're so sweet."

Olive rolled off his chest, sat on the bed with her legs apart, and beckoned with open arms. "Mr. Augustine, come here. Come into my arms."

Elvis glanced at her legs and obediently placed his head on her thighs. Olive took a silver needle from under the pillow and stabbed it into his neck. She needed to find the cause of his insomnia.

In the quiet, warm lounge, Olive's relaxed voice chattered, "You've been in LA for about seven years. Don't you miss your father?"

Elvis had previously mentioned his brother and stepmother. Olive was curious about his relationship with his father and wanted to learn more about his late mother, but wasn't sure if he would tell her.

With his eyes closed, Elvis muttered, "If my brother wanted something I had, my father would ruthlessly take it away and give it to my brother. I remember my mother's best friend visited. She'd just given birth to a daughter. My mother and the friend exchanged tokens, saying they wanted the girl to be my bride once I was grown. My father found out and immediately took the engagement token from my mother and gave it to my stepmother. The girl automatically became my brother's fiancée."