Chapter 229: A Visit from the Imperial
Olive heard the boys whistling, but the sounds faded, so she dismissed it. She continued walking, hunger soon overtaking her. A sweet aroma reached her, signaling the food street.
Olive loved seafood, and the scent of crayfish made her mouth water. She and North had been here before; they'd favored the crayfish. Approaching a noodle shop, she called out, "Hi! Anyone here? Could you lead me to a seat? I'm blind."
A waiter, finishing with a customer, guided her to a chair. "Thank you," Olive said. "I'd like a bowl of fried noodles with eggs, please."
The waiter, also the owner, nodded politely. "Certainly, Miss. Your food will be ready shortly."
Olive waited patiently. Across from her, Elvis sat at a table. His secretary, Andrew, respectfully placed a package of crayfish on Elvis's table.
"CEO, shall I peel the lobster?" Andrew offered, hands clasped behind his back.
"No," Elvis replied, removing his gloves and peeling the crayfish himself.
Olive detected the sweet aroma of crayfish growing stronger, realizing someone nearby was eating it. Soon, the waiter brought her noodles and egg. Elvis looked up, frowning. He beckoned the waiter.
"You added free pork? Did she order it?" Elvis asked, scrutinizing the bowl.
Andrew saw the pork. The waiter blushed; he'd admired Olive's beauty and pitied her blindness, adding the pork as a kindness.
Before the waiter could explain, Elvis removed the pork with his fork. "She doesn't like pork chops; she likes crayfish," he muttered, adding his peeled crayfish to her noodles.
The waiter was stunned. He didn't recognize Elvis, but he'd seen him following Olive. The noodle shop was in a food street, not a high-end restaurant. Elvis's understatedly luxurious clothing seemed out of place. The waiter stood speechless as Elvis raised an eyebrow.
"What are you waiting for? Send the crayfish to her," Elvis commanded.
Trembling, the waiter delivered the food. "Your noodles are ready," he said.
"Thank you," Olive replied, beginning to eat. She tasted crayfish. The familiar, faintly spicy flavor brought a smile to her face. She looked at the waiter.
"I ordered noodles and eggs. Why is there crayfish?" Olive asked, curious.
The waiter stammered, "We're giving free crayfish with every meal today." He lied.
Olive, happy with her unexpected treat, ate quickly. Andrew observed, noticing the waiter's surprised glances at Elvis as he went to the kitchen. The waiter likely couldn't fathom a man like Elvis in his small restaurant.
Elvis watched Olive eat, his narrowed eyes filled with tenderness. His phone rang. It was Alpha.
Andrew's heart leaped. Alpha was the CEO's father, and their relationship was strained. This was Elvis's first call from the Imperial in seven years.
Elvis's face remained impassive; he hung up. Andrew knew Elvis was the only person who dared hang up on Alpha Augustine. He wanted to offer a suggestion, but hesitated. Finally, he said, "CEO, perhaps your father called about returning home to inherit the family property."
Elvis stared blankly, then left briefly, returning with a milkshake. Olive finished eating and was paying when Elvis placed the milkshake on the table, gesturing for the waiter to give it to her.
"Miss, a milkshake—it's on the house today," the waiter said, amazed by his smooth cooperation with the imposing CEO.
Olive felt incredibly lucky. She thanked him profusely and took a sip, finding the milkshake delicious. The abundance of free food made her wonder about the restaurant's profitability.
Leaving the restaurant, Olive was followed by Elvis. A car horn blared. Elvis saw a convoy of luxury cars behind him, the Imperial logo clearly visible on their license plates.