Chapter 196: I Want to Hug You

"Mr. Augustine, what are you doing here?" Olive asked, startled.

Elvis looked at her, then raised his phone. "I should be asking you that. What are you doing here, and what did you see?"

Olive had never seen him so angry. Even when he was sick, he hadn't seemed this frightening. Elvis smashed the phone against the wall, shattering it with a loud thud. The sound startled Olive; her face went pale. She hastily stood as Elvis grabbed her wrist.

"Enough, Elvis!" Bounty exclaimed, rising quickly. "Let go of Olive. I invited her. Are you losing your temper? Let go of her and don't hurt her!"

Elvis held onto Olive, his narrow eyes blazing with anger. "I warned you, didn't I? To keep quiet! For Grandma's sake, leave Los Angeles and don't provoke me again! This is my last warning!"

"Elvis, how dare you? I'm your aunt! And how did you know Olive was meeting me? Did you have me followed?" Bounty yelled, incredulous that her activities were being monitored.

Elvis gave Bounty a death stare, then muttered to his bodyguard, "Take her away."

"Yes, CEO," the bodyguard in black replied, stepping forward.

Elvis ignored Bounty, dragging Olive out of the cafe. Bounty yelled after them, "Elvis, are you crazy? You'll have me locked up? You're a lunatic!"

Olive stumbled behind Elvis, his strides too long for her. She looked at the back of his head and pleaded, "Elvis, don't be angry. Please listen to me."

Elvis stopped abruptly, his eyes falling on her. He pulled her forward. "Olive, what did I tell you about Bounty? Did I not tell you to avoid her and my family?"

He knew she'd lied about meeting Bounty at the hospital the previous night. He'd given her a chance to earn his trust, but she'd failed miserably.

Olive's face was roughly cupped in his palm. Instead of flinching, she held his hand and apologized softly. "I was wrong, Mr. Augustine. I'm sorry. I wanted to know your past, to know you better. I just wanted to understand."

Elvis licked his dry lips, a sarcastic smile playing on them. "Participate? I was in a mental hospital as a teenager. I dined with the devil! Is your curiosity satisfied now? Huh?"

Olive closed her eyes, shaking her head. "I didn't mean it like that. I want to help you, to make you better. That's why I needed to know."

"What if I can't be cured?" Elvis asked calmly.

"No, I'll definitely cure you, Elvis."

Elvis suddenly released her face, then squeezed her shoulders, pushing her against the wall. "What if I can't be cured?" he repeated.

Olive's bright eyes were red. She shook her head fiercely. "I'll definitely cure you!"

It wasn't the answer he wanted. He narrowed his eyes, forcing himself to release her. He knew he needed to distance himself before losing control and hurting her. He turned and left without a word.

Olive ran after him, wrapping her arms around his waist. Elvis stopped, but didn't look back. His voice was low and indifferent. "Let go!"

"No, I want to hug you, Mr. Augustine. If I'd been there years ago, I would have hugged you and never let go," Olive mumbled through tears.

Elvis didn't want to revisit the dark memories of his teenage years, images constantly etched in his mind. Olive's warm embrace was both comforting and infuriating. He wanted to push her away.

He gently removed her hands. Olive stubbornly clung to him.

"Mr. Augustine, where are you going? Let's go home," she pleaded.

"Go back. I won't be home tonight."

"Are you going to the company? I'll go with you," she said anxiously.

"I'm going to a bar to find some women. It'll be inconvenient to bring you."

Olive froze. "No, I won't allow it!"

Elvis pulled her fingers apart and walked away.

"Mr. Augustine, you're joking! You can be angry, but you can't break our marriage vows! I won't let you!"

Elvis didn't respond. His figure disappeared. Olive angrily stamped her foot.

Pamela, hidden in the car lot, watched everything. She pursed her lips and silently left.