Chapter 411
What’s your ex-husband’s name?
Everyone stared blankly as Olive approached, whispers rippling through the crowd. Gasps and exclamations filled the air: “God, who is Olive? Look at her badge, Professor Hart. Is she… the legendary figure who decomposed the poisonous strain X?” “X… X is Olive Hart!” “X is Olive, and Olive is X! God, I feel faint! Five years ago, X was famous. How old was Olive then? Fifteen? Sixteen?” “She’s only about twenty now, and already a professor of medicine!” “I heard Academic Dickson is retiring, and Olive will succeed him at the research center!”
Mr. Paulo and Charlotte were the most surprised. Mr. Paulo’s pupils dilated, his disbelief palpable. He watched as Olive, her white coat billowing in the wind, led her group with assured strides, her presence commanding and breathtaking. In that moment, Olive Hart and the incomparable Joyce Brown, from his memory, merged as one. He realized that Joyce's daughter had perfectly inherited her mother's medical genius, destined for greatness.
Mrs. Robert gazed at Olive with bright eyes, deeply grateful for the young professor’s life-saving actions. She nodded, a mixture of awe and honor clear on her face. Damien, standing behind her, observed Olive's bright pupils thoughtfully. Lily gasped, exclaiming, “No, this can’t be Olive!” She grasped Alpha’s hand, whispering, “Alpha, did you know Olive is X?” Alpha replied, “No, I just learned.” He then looked at Damien, having already guessed the truth: Olive is Damien's biological daughter. Her brilliance, then, was no surprise, a testament to the strong genes she inherited from Joyce Brown and Damien Robert. Alpha mused that Joyce’s decision to become a mother, after years of self-indulgence, had been the right one. He contrasted Olive's pure, discerning mind with Joyce's cruel nature and lack of empathy, concluding that the daughter had already surpassed her mother.
Olive scanned the room, then approached the door, activating an inner mechanism with a “ding.” “Everyone, please,” she announced, her lips pursed. Damien ushered in Mrs. Robert, followed by Alpha and Lily, then Mr. Paulo and Charlotte, and finally Elvis. He confronted Olive, his gaze intense, “Are you… Professor Hart?” He glanced at her identification badge. Olive calmly nodded, “You can call me that.”
Elvis pressed further, “What else do you want to tell me?” “What?” Olive asked, confused. Elvis, his eyes sharp and penetrating, said, “You claimed to be married. Why can’t I find any information about your ex-husband?”
Olive’s heart pounded. He had investigated her! His meticulous nature made this lack of information highly suspicious. He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming, “I’ll give you a chance. Tell me, what’s your ex-husband’s name?”
Olive was angry, unsure if he had found any clues. She looked up at him, “…I won’t tell you!” Elvis’s thin lips tightened. He had long suspected her dishonesty. He closed the distance, cornering her, their bodies nearly touching. Olive blushed, her small hands pushing against his chest, “What are you doing? Elvis, don’t be ridiculous. This is my territory! I’ll have you removed!”
Elvis smirked, poking her identification badge, “Why act like Professor X in front of me? Do your subordinates know their Professor Hart is the rapist who… raped me?”
Olive’s eyes widened. Why did he bring up that old story? A prestigious CEO, raped by a woman, yet boasting about it! “Elvis, you’re shameless! I… I did it to you, but… who pushed me down…?” Her face burned crimson.
Elvis’s expression softened momentarily. He remembered that night; after the act, she had tried to escape, and he had stopped her. Technically, she was the victim. His gaze fell on her white coat; a malicious glint entered his eyes. He touched her collar, a smile playing on his lips. “You look good in this suit.”
Olive knew his words held a double meaning, a trail of lascivious thoughts trailing in his wake. Her eyelashes trembled; she felt tainted, soiled. She tried to push him away, but he stepped back first, leaving her shaken and mortified.