Chapter 494: Elvis, This Child Is Not Yours

Elvis rushed to the bathroom, placing a large hand on Olive's back. His handsome brows furrowed with concern, he asked in a deep voice, "Olive, are you okay?" He paused mid-sentence, a sudden thought crossing his mind. Olive stopped vomiting, her slender eyelids quivering. She quickly stood, saying, "I'm fine, I have work to do. I'll go." She sensed his change of mind and wanted to escape, but Elvis grasped her slender wrist, his sharp eyes narrowing. "Olive," he demanded, "what the hell is wrong with you?"

"Like I said, I'm okay…"

"You lied!" Elvis interrupted. His gaze fell to her flat stomach. "Olive, are you still pregnant? I remember when you were pregnant before, you vomited like this... Our baby is still in your womb, isn't it?"

Olive frantically shook her head. "No."

Elvis erupted in a deep, cheerful laugh. With a hand on his hip, he paced. "Sure thing, Olive. I've always wondered why you were so cruel, how you could kill our child."

"Elvis, listen to me."

"Olive, I'm not listening to your lies anymore. I only believe the doctor. I'll call him now. This is Greenland; you can't collude with these doctors. They're all mine." He quickly called Peterson.

Because Olive had colluded with doctors before, Elvis was extra cautious. Peterson, his trusted associate, managed the doctors. A knock came at the door. Peterson entered with a doctor and two nurses. "Sir, the doctor's here."

Elvis instructed the doctor, "Give her a pregnancy test. I want to know if she's pregnant."

The doctor respectfully addressed Olive: "Miss Hart, I need a blood sample. Please extend your finger." Olive remained still, clearly uncooperative.

"Olive, darling, it doesn't hurt. Be patient," Elvis soothed her, taking her hand and offering it to the doctor. The blood test was done.

Elvis fidgeted, impatient for the results. His normally steady demeanor was frayed. "Got the result? Hurry up!"

The doctor smiled. "Young master, please wait a little longer."

"Hurry!" Olive watched Elvis, her eyebrows slowly rising. She knew he cared for this child, but she also knew the happiness of this moment would soon be overshadowed.

"Young master, I have the results!" the doctor announced.

Elvis received the test. The doctor explained, "Master, Miss Hart is pregnant."

She was pregnant! They hadn't lost their child! Overwhelming joy filled Elvis's chest. The gloom and hesitation vanished. He heard a voice, then countless voices, whisper, "Olive not wanting this baby means she doesn't want you, but she loves this baby means she loves you!"

Elvis embraced Olive. "Olive, why didn't you tell me? I know you wouldn't abandon my child."

Olive pushed him away. "Elvis, let me down."

"Okay," he replied, gently setting her down. He knelt, placing his face on her abdomen, communicating with the baby. "Baby, I am your dad."

Olive's eyes welled. This was the first and last time Elvis would interact with this child.

"Elvis," Olive whispered, "Your baby is gone. This baby isn't yours."

Elvis was stunned. The doctor explained, "Young master, Miss Hart's pregnancy dates are incorrect. She's only just conceived—the baby is...two weeks old."

If Elvis's baby was still alive, it would be two or three months old. This baby was only two weeks old. The baby wasn't his!

The joyous atmosphere plummeted. Peterson's face fell. He knew how much his young master loved Olive and this child, but the child wasn't his! He felt a terrible premonition.

The smile vanished from Elvis's face, replaced by chilling coldness. He stood, gripping Olive's shoulders. "This child isn't mine...then whose is it?"

Olive knew her time was running out. She had eight hours left to reach the restricted area, to go home. Looking into Elvis's clouded eyes, she said, "This child belongs to Derrick Domino."

The baby belonged to Derrick! Elvis felt a devastating fall from grace. She hadn't wanted a child with him; she was with another man. He gritted his teeth, his cheekbones tight, his grip on her shoulder nearly crushing her. His eyes reddened, his voice hoarse. "Olive, you're cruel! You are so cruel!"