Chapter 468: How to Pursue Olive?

Olive pushed Elvis away and ran into the bathroom, bending over the washstand to vomit. She hadn't eaten anything; this time, she didn't spit out the sour water, only retching a few times, yet it was intensely uncomfortable.

"Olive, what's wrong? Are you feeling ill?" Elvis, who had followed her, immediately asked, frowning at her pained expression. The thought of pregnancy didn't occur to him; he was more concerned about another seizure.

Olive stood, her fair eyes red, a few strands of hair clinging to her delicate face. She looked at him and asked, "What smell is on you?"

Elvis, having been wary of the hospital's disinfectant odor, had showered and changed before coming. There should be no scent.

"What?" Elvis asked, confused.

Olive stared at him disdainfully. "Feminine. You smell like another woman. You smell bad."

Elvis knew his personal hygiene was impeccable; he never allowed other women close. Even at the hospital, he'd prevented Crystal from touching him.

"Olive, are you picking a fight? If you don't want to kiss me, fine. Why accuse me of something I don't know about?"

"Elvis, you smell feminine. Don't touch me; I'll vomit the moment you do."

Elvis's eyes darkened with anger. "You mean you vomited because I kissed you?"

"Yes," Olive replied.

Anger surged through Elvis as he placed his hands on his hips. Had she actually vomited because of his kiss? He knew she was rejecting him—she'd fled his embrace during sleep and refused his kisses, claiming they made her nauseous.

"Olive, do I love you too much? I've doted on you to the point you take me for granted. Now you won't even hug or kiss me."

"Then don't come to me. Go find your wife. She'll please, cater to, and serve you. Are you a masochist?" Olive retorted sharply.

Elvis was stunned. He wanted to teach her a lesson, to make her beg for forgiveness. But seeing her red eyes, he scoffed, "Olive, I hope you know how cruel you can be." With that, he stormed out of the bathroom.

He was gone. Finally gone.

Olive sat on the bed, slowly raising her hand to caress her flat stomach. "Baby," she murmured sadly, "I'm sorry I chased your father away."

The new year approached quickly after Christmas, a time for family reunions. Since their argument, Elvis hadn't visited Serenity Villa. He kept busy; idleness brought thoughts of Olive, her stunning face filling his mind. He feared he'd lose control and return. However, this time, he wouldn't be the first to apologize. Olive's recent indifference, her demands that he leave and her declaration that she didn't want him anymore, required a period of absence to reassert his importance and make her value him. Simply put, he needed to reclaim his presence in her life.

In his office, Lu Hanting checked his phone, full of messages. A happy smile touched Elvis's lips, vanishing instantly when he saw the sender: Crystal, not Olive.

He searched through them, hoping for a message from Olive, but found none. She hadn't contacted him at all.

Elvis tossed his phone aside. Peterson trembled, anticipating another outburst. He cautiously suggested, "Young Master, Secretary Andrew arranged your holiday vacation. Use this time to coax Miss Hart. Girls are easily coaxed; she'll change her mind."

Elvis glared. "Did I ask for your opinion?"

Peterson fell silent. Elvis sighed; a bachelor offering relationship advice?

He picked up his phone, accessing an account registered during Olive's radio days—an account everyone knew was his. He posted, "How to pursue Olive?"

Imperial City buzzed. Magazine editors frantically ordered overtime; Elvis's account had reappeared. The post was instantly flooded with replies.

Among them:

"Mr. Augustine, send roses. Girls like roses."

"President Augustine, take Olive to a movie, hold her when she cries."

"President Augustine, satisfy her in bed."

Elvis scanned the comments. He didn't reply directly, only reacting to the third comment with a love emoji. The commenter's box filled with hundreds of messages; netizens recognized his endorsement.