Chapter 478: Olive's Miscarriage
Crystal stared at Olive in shock, completely bewildered. Why would Olive kill her child? A chilling possibility struck Crystal. “Olive,” she gasped, “do you… do you want to kill the child and frame me?” Olive nodded. “Crystal, you’re finally smart.”
Crystal recoiled. “Olive, this is your child! You want to kill your own child? You’re cruel!” She began to sweat. This was Elvis’s first child; losing it would have disastrous consequences. Crystal desperately wanted to avoid such trouble. She instinctively pulled her hand back as if stung, but Olive grabbed her. Crystal’s eyes widened, her heart pounding. Terrorized, she screamed, struggling to break free. “Olive, let go! Let go!”
Olive looked up, just as Elvis appeared. A bright smile spread across her face. “Crystal,” she announced, “I won’t let you threaten him for the rest of his life. I’d rather destroy myself than watch you control him. Your game is over.”
Olive’s hand slipped, and she tumbled down the stairs. “OMG!” Crystal cried out. Elvis rushed to her side, witnessing Olive’s fall. His pupils constricted violently. “Olive!” he shouted, running to her and pulling her into his arms. “Olive, it’s me. Are you okay?”
Olive felt dizzy. She opened her eyes to see Elvis’s handsome face. “It hurts,” she mumbled, her body wracked with pain. She screamed in agony. Elvis saw the sweat beading on her forehead. He hesitated to hug her tightly, fearing he might cause further injury. “Where does it hurt, Olive? Tell me!”
Peterson pointed to Olive’s white dress. “Young Master,” he exclaimed, “Miss Hart is bleeding… losing a lot of blood.” Elvis saw the blood spreading on the ground. Her white gown was soaked. He froze, looking at her in shock. “Olive, what’s wrong?”
From upstairs, Crystal shrieked, “Olive is pregnant! She just had a miscarriage!”
The words echoed in Elvis’s mind. He suddenly remembered Olive’s recent poor appetite and malaise. He’d attributed it to stress, but… she was pregnant! She carried his child. Sadness clouded his handsome eyes. He gazed at Olive and asked calmly, “Olive, are you pregnant?”
Olive tried to speak, her lips trembling. “Enough,” he commanded, picking her up and holding her close. “Don’t say anything. I’ll get you to the hospital.”
Olive saw the gloom etched on Elvis’s usually handsome face—an expression she’d never seen before. She knew he cared about the child. She’d known she was pregnant, but hadn't told him. Now, he didn't want to hear her speak.
The Rolls-Royce Phantom sped to the hospital. Elvis burst in, carrying the blood-soaked Olive. “Doctor! Doctor!” He was covered in blood himself, a humiliating and helpless moment for Imperial City’s most honorable man. Doctors and nurses rushed forward. “Mr. Augustine, what’s wrong with Miss Hart? Please put her down.”
Elvis placed Olive on a stretcher, gripping the doctor’s collar. “She had a miscarriage. Don’t let anything happen to her!” He seemed ready to fight if the outcome was unfavorable. “We’ll do our best, sir,” the doctor replied nervously, as nurses pulled Elvis away.
The doctor wheeled Olive into the operating room. The red light flashed on. Elvis waited in the corridor, stunned. He hadn’t even known she was pregnant. The loss was devastating. He leaned against the cold wall, his heart aching. He’d longed to have a child with her, to be a father. Now, he was one, and he hadn’t even known it. His chest tightened, his breath shallow.