Chapter 508: Unexpected Meeting
The Emperor Club—Imperial's largest and most luxurious high-class establishment—was where the city's wealthy and influential men gathered for activities such as golf, bowling, and fencing. North entered the makeup room, instructing Olive, “Wait for me in the VIP lounge, or you can wander around, but don't stray too far.” “Okay,” Olive nodded. North remained inside, while Olive stepped outside. Looking up at the Imperial sky, she noted its blueness mirrored the day she'd left.
At that moment, the Emperor Club's manager hurried toward Olive. “Are you still standing here? A VIP has arrived, and we’re short-staffed. Change into these clothes and greet the guest immediately.” He tossed her a garment. Olive was stunned. “What else is there to do? Hurry!” he insisted, pushing her into the dressing room without further explanation.
Minutes later, Olive emerged to see a flurry of activity as people rushed to greet someone important. She found the club's entrance lined with uniformed women and waiters. The Emperor Club employed young, beautiful women to provide upscale escort services, offering companionship and entertainment to its clientele.
Olive wondered who this prominent individual could be. The entire staff was present—quite a spectacle. She overheard nearby women whispering, “Do you think my lipstick is okay?” “I'll lower my neckline a bit!” “I’ll emphasize my walk!” “No matter how flirtatious you are, Mr. Augustine won't notice. He has a new mistress, Hazel, the new queen.”
Olive’s pupils constricted. “President Augustine”—Elvis! While she suspected as much, aside from rumors over the past three years, his whereabouts had been shrouded in secrecy. His sudden appearance at the Emperor Club was completely unexpected. She should have left, but felt rooted to the spot.
A long, luxurious Rolls-Royce pulled up. The manager rushed to open the back door. Olive's gaze fell first on a pair of polished black leather shoes, then on sharply tailored black trousers, showcasing exceptionally long legs. The man wore a handmade black shirt, a costly belt cinching his substantial waist. His handsome demeanor was captivating. As Elvis stepped out, Olive saw his face. Three years had refined his features, and his deep, narrow eyes surveyed the crowd with an intense presence. When their eyes met, she quickly lowered her head.
A delicate voice then reached her ear: “Mr. Augustine—” Olive's eyelashes fluttered. She recalled the women's comments about his new mistress, Hazel. Looking up, she saw Hazel, in high heels, affectionately clinging to Elvis's arm. Hazel was youthful and beautiful, the type Elvis previously favored. She deliberately pressed herself against him, gazing up adoringly.
"President Augustine," Hazel said smoothly, "please slow down. My heels are tiring me."
The manager, ever attentive, produced a pair of slippers. "Miss Hazel, let me change your shoes." He began to kneel.
Olive felt a sharp pang of pain, though subtle, that left her breathless. She turned to leave, but Elvis's deep voice stopped her. "Someone else can help her."
The manager looked surprised. "Of course, Mr. Augustine. Please choose someone." Elvis pointed. "Her."
All eyes turned to Olive. Elvis had chosen her. Their eyes met again—his narrow, deep gaze appraising her with condescending mockery and sarcasm. He wanted her to change Hazel's shoes.
Olive remained motionless. The manager urged, "What are you waiting for? It's an honor to serve Mr. Augustine! The tip alone will be substantial! So many would kill for this chance!"
Olive’s eyelids trembled. She approached Elvis and Hazel, then slowly knelt, beginning to change Hazel’s shoes. "Miss Hazel, please lift your foot."
Hazel, having just noticed Olive, was struck by her beauty. Olive's delicate features, milky-white skin, and ethereal aura were captivating—a beauty that sparked the inherent female rivalry. Seeing Elvis choose Olive, Hazel felt a surge of resentment. She looked at Elvis and said, "President Augustine, why not use the manager, but a mere maid?" She deliberately emphasized “maid” to humiliate Olive.
Elvis glanced at Olive’s downcast gaze, then wrapped his arm around Hazel. “Hazel, your legs are precious. Only I can touch them.”