Chapter 455: Olive Proposes to Elvis

Elvis looked up to see Olive at the party hall entrance. Her arrival caused immediate commotion. "Look, Olive's here!" someone shouted. Elvis's eyes widened; his apprehension was confirmed. He shouldn't have been surprised; her intelligence made it easy for her to notice anything amiss, and escape if she chose. He noticed Logan Theodore in a corner, his malevolent gaze fixed on Olive. Elvis pursed his lips; he'd kept Olive at the villa for her safety, to protect her from Logan.

Olive wore a long black dress that accentuated her graceful figure. Her long black hair fell loosely around her shoulders. She approached Elvis, silencing the hall. All eyes were on her.

Whispers rippled through the crowd: "My goodness, is that the OneLove necklace?" "Wait, what? President Augustine gave Olive the OneLove, even after deciding to marry Crystal? That's insane!" "What's Olive even doing here? Is she here to cause trouble?"

Crystal, observing Olive's OneLove necklace against her elegant collarbone, conceded that Olive's appearance surpassed her own. Elvis frowned. "What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice low and unhappy.

Olive smiled, lifting her head. "I used a face-changing drug and escaped. Witty, don't you think?"

Elvis remained unimpressed. His eagle-like gaze swept the room; the wealthy women, mid-photo, faltered under his intensity and stopped filming. He turned back to Olive. "Go back. This isn't the place for you," he said.

"Mr. Augustine," Olive replied, "I remembered something. You mentioned remarrying. So, Mr. Augustine, will you propose to me now?"

The audience gasped. Her audacity shocked them. Elvis's face remained emotionless. Olive shuddered, then smiled. "Forget it. I'll allow your arrogance. If you won't propose, then I will."

In a clear voice, she declared, "Mr. Augustine, I'm in my twenties, healthy, and I've admired you for a long time. Marry me. I'll work hard to support our family, take care of you, ensure you lack nothing. Please, marry me."

The stunned audience knew Olive's presence always brought drama. This bold proposal was no exception.

Elvis was speechless. Olive's clear, devout gaze made the decision seem as simple as a nod. He gritted his teeth, fighting the temptation. He was always defeated in her presence. Losing his patience, he barked, "Miss Hart, were you raised to stalk people? Leave, or I'll—"

Before he finished, Olive hugged his waist. His body stiffened as her soft form pressed against him. The feeling was both agonizing and sweet, a torture pushing him to the brink of losing control.

"Mr. Augustine," she whispered, her face against his chest, "let's go home. Take me home."

Elvis closed his eyes, knowing he couldn't let this continue. He gently pushed her away. Olive stumbled back, embarrassed, covering her face and groaning, "It hurts."

Her soft cry pierced Elvis's ears. "Where? Olive, tell me!" he asked, stepping closer.

Olive's face brightened into a smile. "Mr. Augustine, you care about me!"