Chapter 5: Give Her to Another Man

Elvis had smelled countless perfumes on women, the cloying scent of artificial fragrances leaving him disgusted. But Olive smelled…different. Remarkably good.

Elvis unfastened her seatbelt and asked in a low voice, "What perfume are you wearing?"

Olive shook her head. "I'm not wearing any."

"Then why do you smell so good?" Elvis looked up, stunned for a second. His lips had gently brushed against hers.

Olive's body trembled. It was their first kiss. This man was dangerous. Nonetheless, she was determined to achieve her goals and then escape her role as his wife.

Elvis pulled back, glancing at her red lips. "I'm sorry," he stammered, "I shouldn't have kissed you."

Olive looked at him. "Definitely not!"

A pleasant laugh rumbled in his throat.

Olive opened the passenger door. "I'll go now."

"My name is Elvis Augustine."

Olive nodded; she barely registered his name. All she wanted was to see her grandfather. "Thank you, Mr. Augustine," she said, waving from outside the car.

She was wearing a red crop top, and as she waved, it rode up, revealing her slender waist.

"I have a meeting later. I'll pick you up afterwards."

"No need…" Olive murmured, but Elvis had already driven away.

Gabriella watched from her window, shaking her head in disappointment. "Olive just got married last night, and today she's already with another man!" The luxurious car had caught her eye. How could Olive be involved with someone who drove such a vehicle?

Gabriella convinced herself she must be mistaken. She rubbed her eyes, but the car was gone. She rushed downstairs and encountered Olive, letting out a loud laugh. "Olive, who was that man? I didn't expect you to be so lonely you'd get a young gigolo!"

"A young gigolo?"

"Elvis Augustine?"

Elvis's perfectly handsome face, his mature and restrained style, filled Olive's mind.

"Where's Grandpa? I want to see him." Olive bypassed Gabriella and went upstairs.

Upstairs, Old Mr. Hart lay in bed, comatose for over ten years. In the Hart family, besides Olive's mother, he was the only one who had loved her. Ten years earlier, when she was nine, her mother had died from an illness. One day, she awoke to find herself at the top of the staircase, Old Mr. Hart already lying at the bottom, drenched in blood. Her father, Patrick, and the servants had arrived at the scene, and despite her claims of innocence, no one believed her.

Patrick had consulted a fortune teller who declared Olive a disaster. He sent her to an orphanage and never looked back. After her mother's death, Olive discovered her father's long-term affair with Monica, who had borne him two daughters, one older than Olive.

Olive checked Old Mr. Hart's pulse, then took out a silver needle and inserted it into his arm. After replacing the needles, she covered the old man with a blanket and whispered, "Grandfather, don't worry, I'll cure you. You'll wake up soon."

In the kitchen, Gabriella found Monica at the oven, wearing thick gloves.

"Mom, do you know what just happened? Olive was dropped off by a man—her gigolo!"

Monica turned, startled. "Olive's keeping a gigolo? How shameless!"

"What are you baking, Mom?" Gabriella asked as the oven beeped, signaling that whatever was inside was ready.

"It's a pizza. For Olive," Monica replied, removing the tray.

"What? Mom, did I hear you right?"

Monica took a knife, sliced a piece, and placed it on a plate. She produced a substance from her pocket, unwrapping it and sprinkling some onto the pizza. "Yesterday, at the wedding, President Ronald showed interest in Olive. I think she has a nice figure. She married a nobody, but she could be a plaything for these presidents. I'll make her eat this, then take some nude pictures. I'm sure she'll cooperate."

A smile spread across Gabriella's face. "Mom, you're brilliant. Let me get a cake from the shop; I'll be back in a moment." She left the kitchen.

Monica placed the pizza on the dining table. "Olive, I made you a pizza, come eat."

Olive sat down and ate. After a few slices, she smiled sweetly. "Thank you, Ma. It's delicious."

"You're welcome. Finish it if you like it." Monica smiled, secretly pleased.

Olive reached for another slice, but her vision blurred. "What did you put in this?" she asked before collapsing onto the table.

A satisfied sneer appeared on Monica's face. She ordered the servants to take Olive upstairs.

Soon, a middle-aged, overweight man emerged from a downstairs room, excitedly asking, "Where is she? Did you succeed?"

"Mr. Ronald, Olive's upstairs. The drug will keep her asleep for two hours. Enjoy," Monica chuckled.

"You did a wonderful job, Mrs. Hart. I…" Mr. Ronald started, but Monica interrupted. "Mr. Ronald, you promised to invest in Hart's Corporation…"

At yesterday's wedding banquet, Mr. Ronald's eyes had lingered on Olive's slender, beautiful body, leading to a deal.

In the room, Mr. Ronald practically drooled at the sight of Olive lying on the bed. He quickly undressed, rushing towards her. "My beautiful little thing, I'm here!"