Chapter 261

Fall in his chest. Elvis stepped forward, tall and long-legged, into the hallway before her. One hand remained in his pocket, the champagne-colored lights illuminating his handsome face. He wore a black shirt and black pants—delicate, luxurious, and seductive.

"Meow—" Phoebe cried twice. Olive, unprepared to find him in the Imperial bar, froze. Elvis had come seeking Phoebe. Normally, Phoebe was fiercely possessive, never leaving his side. Any female presence prompted a violent meow, a declaration of sovereignty he didn't fully understand. Today, Phoebe had vanished. Upon finding her, he witnessed this scene in the hallway: his small cat nestled in a young woman's embrace. He couldn't describe it, but her expression was remarkably sweet. Phoebe, inexplicably hostile to other girls, lay docilely in the woman's arms. As the girl's small hand stroked her soft fur, Phoebe seemed content. "Meow—" Phoebe called to Elvis again. Boss, your wife is here. Stop looking elsewhere, it seemed to say.

Elvis approached Olive, stopping before her. He'd glimpsed her in the car that afternoon, but up close, her beauty shone brighter. Her bright, clear pupils, already beautiful, now sparkled like stars. Unfortunately, a veil obscured her face.

"This is my cat," Elvis said, his voice deep.

"Oh," Olive murmured, eyelids fluttering slightly as she fought back a pounding heart. Handing Phoebe over, she said, "It followed me, so I hugged it. Here you are."

He reached for the cat. Phoebe, unwilling to leave Olive, struggled wildly, grabbing Olive's hair and pulling hard. "Ah," Olive groaned, her slender body falling forward, against Elvis's warm chest. Their bodies collided, his scent filling her senses. Olive looked up in surprise. Elvis, equally startled, found himself holding her slender form. Her small face, tilted upward, her clear eyes resembling those of a startled deer. He felt a pang, both painful and endearing, as if the kitten had gently scratched his heart. This girl resembled little Phoebe.

"Are you alright?" he asked softly.

Olive shook her head. "I'm fine. I'm sorry."

"Then let go."

Only then did Olive realize her small hands were still clutching his shirt, her fingertips piercing the fabric to touch the strong muscles of his waist. The feel sent a jolt through her, her earlobes flushing crimson. She quickly withdrew her hands and stepped back.

Olive's hair, usually tied back with a butterfly headband, now flowed freely, a waterfall of black shimmering in the air. At that moment, a soft voice called, "Olive."

Olive turned to see North Paulo, dressed in a knee-length black dress, her curves and languid aura radiating elegance. Her hair flowed gently around her small face; her red lips and white teeth were striking. She was captivating, like a freshly bloomed red rose.

"Olive, come here."

Olive hurried over. "North, you're here."

North drew Olive close, then raised a questioning eyebrow at Elvis. "Mr. Augustine, this is my best friend. She didn't offend you, did she?"

Elvis glanced at Olive. "No."

"Well then, Olive, this is Mr. Augustine, a business magnate of the Imperial. Offend him, and we won't survive here," North said with a smile.

Olive nodded. "I understand."

"So, Mr. Augustine, we'll be going." North took Olive's hand and led her away. As they left, North asked, "Olive, you broke off your engagement with Noah White?"

"Yes."

"Better to end it early. There are plenty of eligible men in your family."

Elvis didn't hear the rest of their conversation. They reached the bar and ordered two cocktails—one crystal-clear, the other the color of a summer rose. Their presence immediately drew attention. A waiter approached, delivering two more cocktails. "Misses, these were sent by the gentleman over there."

Elvis remained, watching. Raven's low voice cut through the air. "What? Do you like them?"

Elvis glanced over. Raven, leaning casually against a wall, observed him. Elvis frowned. "What's with you and North Paulo? Her remarks were clearly aimed at me."

"Relax, I won't blame you. North Paulo simply has a problem with you. She hasn't spoken to me lately, saying it's because I'm your friend." Raven looked at Elvis, implying Elvis was the source of the conflict.

Elvis remained unaware of his offense. North Paulo was a thorny rose. His gaze drifted to Olive's delicate figure.

"She and North Paulo are best friends," Raven noted, his black eyes cold as he observed Olive. Despite their brief encounter, Elvis found himself drawn to her. "Heard she's the youngest Hart daughter, lost as a child and raised in a Los Angeles village."

Elvis remained silent, his face obscured by shadows. "I'll leave first," he said, departing with Phoebe in his arms.