Chapter 219 My heart is still for her.

Olive rose slowly, removing the OneLove necklace. The diamond ring gleamed in the dim light. She slipped it off, handing both necklace and ring to Elvis. His eyes darkened, pain etched across his face.

“Just throw them away,” he replied.

“Oh,” Olive responded, tossing the jewelry into the nearby trash can.

Elvis’s throat tightened. “You bought everything here. I don’t want any of it. We’ll meet at the Civil Affairs Bureau tomorrow at nine to finalize the divorce. And I won’t spare Monica and Pamela. If you want to protect them, that’s up to you.” She left the room.

Numbness washed over Elvis. He listened to her fading footsteps, then silence. Olive was gone. After his cruelty, she had finally abandoned him. His fingers trembled. He had won, pushed away the girl he loved most, and lost her.

He slowly retrieved the OneLove necklace and ring from the trash can. Olive’s scent lingered. His eyes reddened as he examined them. He had never revealed that his mother, Annabelle, had given them to him. She, the creator of the classic OneLove brand, had designed only one ring in her life—the one in his hand. It was meant for the girl he loved most. But he had lost her.

His eyes heavy, he grabbed the jewelry and rushed from the room, running into the street, his scarlet eyes searching for Olive. He spotted her by the roadside, hailing a taxi. She carried nothing; she left the Red Villa empty-handed, wanting no association with him, or his gifts.

The taxi door opened, she climbed inside, and it sped away.

“Olive!” Elvis shouted, running after it. He wanted to stop her, to tell her he never wanted her to leave, to confess his love. He couldn't understand his obsession, believing he could bear her absence, hardened by childhood pain and loneliness. But Olive, a shining star in his darkest hour, had given him reason to live.

His steps faltered, his tall frame swayed, and he collapsed to the ground. Passersby gathered quickly.

“What’s wrong, sir? Call an ambulance!”

“Oh my God, he’s bleeding!” They exclaimed, noticing the blood on his black trousers. His lower body appeared injured. Even as he fell, his paranoid eyes followed the taxi, which slowly disappeared. Olive was truly gone.

“Olive,” he muttered hoarsely, hot tears streaming down his cheeks. He awoke in the hospital, the ward heavy with the scent of disinfectant.

“Elvis, you’re awake!” Old Mrs. Samantha’s voice was tinged with sadness.

He turned to see his grandmother, the butler, Mr. Henry, and his secretary, Andrew, their faces grave. Mrs. Samantha’s eyes were red from crying.

“Grandma,” Elvis called, trying to move, but the pain was unbearable. She stopped him.

“Elvis, don’t move. The doctor said the wound is extremely deep. Even after surgery, your sex life will be affected.” Tears streamed down her face. She longed for a great-grandchild, a hope now shattered.

Elvis wasn't surprised. Pamela’s spray was potent, containing psychedelic ingredients. He’d endured the pain. The blood on the bedsheet was self-inflicted by Pamela.

“Elvis, what happened? How could you be so cruel to yourself? This is your sex life, your future! How will you explain this to Olive?” Mrs. Samantha pressed.

He took her hand, speaking calmly, “Grandma, Olive and I are divorced.” He confessed, knowing she would learn the truth eventually.

“What?” Mrs. Samantha stiffened.

“Grandma, I couldn’t keep hurting her. Distance will protect her. But my heart still belongs to her. I never betrayed her, I loved her completely. Please, don’t look for her. Let her go.”