Chapter 381

Olive, a scoundrel in the eyes of many, walked down the hallway and spotted Marvin. She stopped, her clear eyes meeting his handsome face. A wave of apology washed over her. A crowd had gathered, eager to witness the unfolding drama.

“Academician Augustine is here! I can’t believe he’d let himself be hurt by that woman!”

“She had an affair with her fiancé’s older brother? How pathetic!”

“Olive, please leave Academician Augustine alone. We’re all waiting for him.”

Olive felt the public’s anger. Without Marvin, she knew things might have escalated.

“Olive, let’s talk,” Marvin said calmly.

“Okay.”

Olive and Marvin entered Radio D and locked the door, shutting out the world.

“Marvin, I’m sorry,” Olive apologized.

Marvin shook his head. “Olive, you don’t have to apologize. You have no obligations to me. We’re not married, and you only gave me a chance.”

“No, Marvin, I need to apologize. I’m truly sorry.” Olive’s clear eyes held his gaze. Marvin froze; he understood her insistence.

“Olive, you’ve made your choice, haven’t you? You still chose Elvis?” He paused. “Before, you didn’t want to hurt me, but now… choosing him only hurts me more. I deserve better.”

“Marvin, there are unresolved issues between Elvis and me. Whether we get back together is another matter. But apart from Elvis, I can’t imagine loving anyone else. I feel guilty about the confusion I’ve caused him.” Olive sighed. “Marvin, we can still be friends. I can’t bring you happiness; I’m not worthy of you. You’ll meet someone who loves you as you deserve.”

Marvin’s heart ached as he looked into her honest eyes. Olive was his first love, unforgettable. Reluctant to pressure her, he said, “I respect your decision, Olive. I’ll announce we’re no longer engaged. We can still be friends.”

“Yes, we’ll always be friends,” Olive replied, touched by his words.

The Augustine Corporation buzzed with activity. Given Elvis’s recent headlines, numerous reporters gathered outside, eager for an interview. A Rolls Royce Phantom arrived; Andrew opened the back door, revealing Elvis’s impeccably dressed form. He stepped out, his fitted black suit contrasting sharply with the accusations of perversion leveled against him. The reporters surged forward.

“President Augustine, what’s your relationship with Olive?”

“Is Olive in love with two brothers? Will you fight over her?”

“Mr. Augustine, how are you coping? Olive hurt you; did you seek help?”

The reporters’ questions came rapidly. Bodyguards intervened, blocking them.

“I’m sorry, our CEO isn’t giving interviews,” Andrew announced.

Elvis had already entered the building, his employees trailing behind.

In the president’s office, Andrew found Elvis reviewing documents.

“Boss, should we have PR shut down the online comments?” Andrew asked cautiously.

“No need,” Elvis replied without looking up.

Andrew, sensing Elvis’s reluctance to discuss things, left.

The office fell silent. Elvis finished his work, leaned back on the sofa, adjusted his tie, and checked his phone. No calls or texts from Olive. He smirked, placed his phone on the table, and closed his eyes. A memory surfaced: a cold night, Olive pushing him into a bush, her hair scattered around her face, as he held her close.