Chapter 253: His Heart Was Empty

Hearing the final three words, Elvis lowered his hand, gently raised his beautiful eyes, and glanced at Peterson. Peterson felt a chill, but he pinched his neck, offered a flat smile, and said, “Young Master, I didn’t say that. It was Secretary Andrew.” Andrew sneezed. Who was the little bastard who’d shifted the blame? Peterson, however, wasn’t fabricating. Since Elvis’s return to Canada, he’d had no female companionship.

Elvis indifferently retracted his gaze. “Drive.”

“Yes, Young Master.”

Elvis returned to the Red Villa, now his solitary residence. Dr. Kellerman, his twenty-first psychologist, had been awaiting him. Dr. Kellerman, a young man with fair skin, wore a white coat. He looked at Elvis gently and politely. “Hello, sir. Please sit down.”

Elvis sat on the sofa, his long legs elegantly crossed, his expression indifferent. Dr. Kellerman sat opposite him. “Mr. Augustine, relax. We can chat now. Have you ever dated?”

Elvis shook his head. “No.”

“Since you’ve never dated, how do you know you’re frigid? It’s a simple matter. You could try dating,” Dr. Kellerman suggested.

Elvis pursed his lips. “I was injured.”

Dr. Kellerman’s gaze fell on his trousers. “What’s the reason?”

Elvis shook his head. “I don’t know. I can’t remember how I got hurt. In any case, I have no sexual interest in women, and I dislike their advances. Recently, a girl was close to me—pure, intelligent, someone I should have favored—but even then, I felt no desire.”

Only upon returning to the Imperial did Elvis realize he’d sustained a lower-body injury. The location of the wound was significant; the lack of memory was unusual. He was twenty-eight. While not overtly lustful, he was still young, yet possessed absolutely no sexual desire, and his body remained unresponsive. He knew something was wrong, whether frigidity or impotence. He should have liked Crystal; sometimes, her long black hair and mischievous eyebrow arch made his heart flutter.

Dr. Kellerman nodded, indicating understanding. “Mr. Augustine, if a woman is near you, try dating her. See if your feelings deepen, if you crave her. Intimate embraces are inherently sexually appealing. Open yourself up; let her in.”

Chapter 253 (continued): His Heart Was Empty

Elvis likely knew of the arranged marriage between the Roberts and the Augustine family. Alpha considered Crystal his prospective daughter-in-law. In truth, Elvis didn’t care whom he spent his life with. He’d respect his wife, grant her title, wealth, and power, including children, and guarantee fidelity. Crystal was the only woman who’d been close to him, so marriage wasn't a bad idea. But now, he had no interest in intimacy with her. Today, everyone had urged him to kiss her, but he hadn’t wanted to.

Elvis looked at Dr. Kellerman, his voice low and slightly hoarse. “I don’t know why I feel empty inside. My life is neither good nor bad. I don’t like anything. I wake, I stand, the sun sets, I sleep. My days are as monotonous as a machine. Marvin asked me if I’m happy today. No, I’m not. I don’t even know what happiness is. I don’t know what I yearn for, but I always feel like I’ve lost something vital.”

Dr. Kellerman looked at his handsome face in the dim light. He suspected this man had endured significant trauma, yet now lived a peaceful life. “Mr. Augustine, let’s try hypnosis next time. I’ll enter your world and see if I can find the answers, and what you’ve lost.”

After Kellerman left, Elvis took a cold shower and went to bed. His routine was normal; he slept soundly each night. He didn’t know when his sleep disorder had been cured, but it was gone; no more nightmares, he slept until dawn. Everything was better. He was fine.

Then, a “ding.” A text from Crystal. “Elvis, can you drive me to school tomorrow?”

Elvis remembered Dr. Kellerman’s suggestion and didn’t refuse. A simple “Yes” filled Crystal with joy. “Elvis, thank you. I’m so happy. Go to bed early. See you tomorrow.”

Elvis placed his phone on the nightstand and calmly closed his eyes.

Meanwhile, at the Hart family home in Imperial City, Tom Hart, the family head, burst into a room, his temper already flaring. He cursed angrily, “Olive, did that bastard Noah call you? Do you want me to call someone? We’ll put him in a sack and beat him up!”

Olive stood on the carved balcony, clad in a loose white dress that accentuated her delicate figure. Her black hair cascaded over her shoulders, half her face elegantly shadowed. After three months, she seemed fully recovered, radiating a jade-like beauty. At Tom Hart’s outburst, Olive quickly placed a finger to her lips. “Dad, be quiet, you’re scaring my birds.” She was feeding them; a cage with three fluffy chicks sat beside her.

“Olive, what time is it? Why are you feeding birds? You’ve raised these for three months; they’ve never left you. They’re just ordinary birds! If you like, I’ll catch some forest birds for you.” Tom Hart, a martial artist, was strong, forthright, and bold.

Olive quickly declined. “Dad, thank you, but forest birds aren’t as good as my children. And Noah wasn’t pleased earlier; he’s probably furious. I’ll make peace with him. The marriage is over, Dad. I’ve just arrived in Imperial; please don’t cause a scene. Let’s keep this quiet.”