Chapter 517 Locked Her Inside

Elvis emerged from the shower, his tall, sturdy frame wrapped in the cool air. His damp, short hair and loose white bathrobe revealed a glimpse of his chest, making him look extraordinarily young and handsome. Hazel rushed to him, falling onto his chest, exclaiming, "Mr. Augustine, you're done!"

Olive looked at Elvis and stated, "Mr. Augustine, I've completed your request." Elvis casually dried his hair, then glanced at two packets of condoms on the bed. He muttered, "The biggest one?" Hazel glared at Olive. "Mr. Augustine," she said, "I don't feel safe with her here. I think she even likes you."

Olive was speechless, but repeated, "Mr. Augustine, I'm finished. May my friend and I leave now?"

"Why the hurry? I have one more task for you," Elvis said with interest. Olive frowned, suspicious that he was deliberately delaying their departure. He anticipated her thoughts and quickly reassured her, "Don't worry, I'll explain immediately. Once you're finished, you and North can leave."

"What is it, sir?"

Elvis pointed to the nearby closet. "It's a little messy. Go in and clean it. I'll let you leave afterward."

Olive entered the closet, suspicion giving way to alarm. The closet was spotless. "Elvis, what do you mean?" she asked urgently. Elvis blocked the door. "It means nothing. Just stay inside for a while. An hour should suffice."

A terrifying thought struck Olive. What would he and Hazel do? Was he forcing her to listen to their intimacy? The idea horrified her. "Elvis, I don't want to stay here, let me out!"

She tried to escape, but it was too late. Elvis locked the door. All Olive saw was darkness. She pounded on the door, crying, "Elvis, what are you doing? Why are you leaving me here?" A terrible feeling washed over her.

Outside, Elvis coldly regarded the closed door. "Olive, you're smart. You should have guessed, right? Your guess is correct. Please stay inside and listen carefully."

"Listen to what?" she feigned ignorance.

Elvis smiled cruelly. "I can sleep with you, or with other women. I want you to listen to how I indulge other women!"

Olive’s blood ran cold. "Elvis, I don't want to. Are you a pervert? Let me out! I don't want to listen!"

Ignoring her, Elvis addressed Hazel with a hoarse voice, "Come here."

Hazel, slightly confused, went to him. He smelled her perfume and grabbed her wrist. He gazed at her, and her heart pounded. Even if it was for free, she would be happy to be with him. She kissed his face, but he impatiently pushed her away.

"Mr. Augustine, what's wrong?" Hazel asked, hurt.

Elvis responded casually, "Don't you know what to call me?" He continued, "If you can't moan, what use are you? After all, many women can moan seductively."

Hazel's moans reached Olive. She bit her lip and slammed the door. "Elvis, you bastard! Let me out!" The cruelty of his act tore her heart apart. She pounded frantically until her hands were red and swollen. Olive felt an unbearable pain, murmuring, "Elvis, no!" She slid to the floor, hugging herself, covering her ears, unable to bear the torment. The pain was far worse than anything she had experienced in the past three years.