Chapter 230 What Are They Doing in the Room?
Luxurious cars sat quietly at the roadside. Their windows were up, obscuring the occupants behind the black tinted glass. Yet, Elvis felt a pair of keen eyes watching him. Pedestrians paused, drawn to the unusual convoy.
Elvis watched the cars, recognizing their occupants. He surmised they had followed him to the food street. Through the tinted glass, he met the gaze of someone inside.
After a moment, he looked away indifferently, searching for Olive. Finding her, he continued to follow.
Inside one of the cars, the driver checked the rearview mirror and respectfully asked, "Sir, should we continue following the young master?"
The dimly lit backseat concealed the man's features. After a pause, he replied casually, "No need. Head to the Red Villa. I want to see Mrs. Samantha."
"Yes, sir."
Olive walked, a sense of familiarity washing over her. Though unsure of her destination, she felt drawn to the Red Villa, compelled to bid farewell to Mrs. Samantha. She missed the old woman and longed for one last visit. But fear of encountering Elvis held her back. Since their divorce, he had vanished.
Olive found a bench and sat, hands resting on the seat. Elvis watched her from a distance, aware she was unknowingly heading toward the Red Villa.
Olive's initial cheerfulness faded. Her spirits drooped; she swayed her leg, lost in thought. Elvis felt a sharp pang in his heart. His breath hitched; his hands clenched into fists, then relaxed. He couldn't approach her; he had vowed to let her go.
Olive remained on the bench throughout the afternoon. Dusk arrived; children’s laughter and fireworks filled the air. Though she couldn't see them, Olive heard the celebratory sounds, lifting her spirits. She rose and approached the children.
A hand offered her a firework. She accepted it, her blank eyes fixed on the small burst of light. The darkness slowly receded from her vision. Olive lowered her head, watching the firework bloom.
But her attention wasn't on the display. She turned, searching the street. She felt Elvis behind her, having given her the firework. Finding no trace of him, her heart sank. Another child offered her another firework.
“Miss, do you want to play?”
The realization hit her. Elvis wasn't there; he hadn't given her the firework. Her hope had been a delusion. Dismissing the fantasy, Olive continued her journey.
Instead of drinking, Olive checked into a hotel, exhausted from her day exploring Los Angeles. She indulged in a milk bath. Her flight was scheduled for tomorrow afternoon; tonight was her last night in LA.
After her bath, Olive messaged Divine: “Divine, good day. Hope you’re doing fine? Please can you send me that flower now? I’m at ReelsReeks hotel.”
Divine’s reply was swift: “No problem, Olly, I’ll be there in fifteen.” She’d cried when she’d heard Olive was leaving and even threatened to visit Olive at the Imperial.
Olive dried her hair. A knock sounded. Assuming it was Divine, she opened the door, her excitement quickly replaced by surprise.
“Marvin, what are you doing?” she asked.
Marvin, carrying a bag, met her gaze. Olive remembered she hadn’t put her mask back on after her shower. Her face, steamed from the bathroom heat, was radiant. She wore a white hotel bathrobe. This was the second time Marvin had seen her without her mask. He reached out, gently touching her face.
Elvis watched from a distance, observing Marvin's tender touch. Olive recoiled, attempting to close the door. Elvis was reminded of a maid who resembled Olive. Marvin prevented the door from closing.
Olive, confused, looked at Marvin, who entered and shut the door. Elvis saw Olive's slow retreat before the door slammed, dismissing it as a figment of his imagination.
“CEO, your room key,” Andrew said, approaching Elvis.
Elvis didn’t take it. A low, hoarse whisper escaped his lips: “What are they doing in the room?”