Chapter 473: I Miss You So Much

Olive closed the door, leaving Elvis alone outside. His hand clenched into a fist. Slowly, he raised it and knocked. The knock was steady, rhythmic.

"Olive," he called, "you're not willing to open the door. That's alright. Tonight, I'll stand here and knock until you do."

Inside, Olive heard the knocks. She sat on the floor, knees drawn up. She would not compromise. Not anymore. Elvis was a master of games, a trickster.

"Olive, I feel so hot," he said. "It's getting worse. I really miss you."

His body temperature was scorching; even his breath was hot. The medicine Charlotte procured was supposedly the best. He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing, trying to suppress the heat, but his head began to spin. The medicine felt like an illusion; the first image in his mind was Olive, the woman he craved most.

"Young Master, are you alright?" Peterson asked anxiously, his gaze falling on the closed door. He sensed his young master had made a grave mistake.

Crystal, unable to wait, rushed over and hugged Elvis tightly from behind. "Elvis, Olive doesn't want you. I want you! My heart is all yours. Feel it—it's beating for you right now." She pressed his hand to her chest.

Inside, Olive heard every word. She knew if a bed were nearby, Crystal would have already pounced on Elvis.

"Elvis," Crystal cooed. "Elvis, you're hurting me!"

Olive quickly covered her ears. She refused to listen; she knew Crystal was deliberately provoking her.

"OMG!" Crystal cried ecstatically. "Elvis, where are you taking me? Let's go to my room—it's next door!"

Elvis took Crystal away. Soon, silence enveloped Olive. She lowered her hand; there was no sound from outside. He was gone, taking Crystal with him. Had he already slept with Crystal? Was he going to sleep with her again?

Olive pressed a hand to her heart. A nosebleed started. She knew it was another seizure. She grabbed a tissue, wiped the blood, and discarded it. She knew the toxins from the old woman had spread, and she needed Crystal's blood. This entanglement with Crystal would last a lifetime.

Tears streamed down Olive's face. Suddenly, she burst into loud sobs. The silence of the room amplified her cries.

"Why are you crying?" A low, hoarse voice whispered in her ear.

Olive looked up. Elvis stood before her, tall and straight. He hadn't left with Crystal; he'd secretly entered. She remembered locking the door.

"How did you get in?" she asked.

He held up a small wire. "I used this. Olive, since I met you, I've become a master lockpicker. Nothing can stop me. Next time you lock me out, I'll come in myself."

He was a man of honor, yet here he was, breaking into a room. It was unlike him, but he'd do anything for Olive.

Olive laughed. She was actually amused.

Elvis knelt, cupping her face in his hands. "Olive, tell me, why were you crying?"

Olive touched her chest. "It hurts."

"Because of me?"

"Yes," she whispered, turning her face away.

Elvis's eyebrows furrowed slightly, concealing his emotions. He lifted her, carrying her to the bed. "Don't worry, I won't force you," he said hoarsely.

"I thought you left with Crystal."

"No, she's too loud. I was afraid you wouldn't hear me over her, so I sent her away."

"Don't you want a woman?" Olive asked.

Elvis looked at her. "The only woman I want is you. I don't plan to touch Crystal. I'll take care of myself later. Olive, I won't force you, okay? As long as you're with me, that's all that matters."

Her heart ached at his words.

"Go to sleep. I'll take a cold shower," Elvis said, rising.

But a hand grabbed his shirt. He stopped, lowering his gaze. "What are you doing? Olive, I'm uncomfortable. I can't stand your flirtation."

Olive looked away. He turned, bent, and kissed her lips—a soft kiss, then a light bite. His weight pressed her into the bed. His scent filled her senses, overwhelming and aggressive.