Chapter 539: He Hasn't Touched a Woman in Three Years

Last night, he angrily slammed the door. This morning, she should have apologized via text… but his phone remained untouched all day. Elvis tossed his phone onto the table, a dull rage simmering within him. He didn't believe he'd done anything wrong last night. She had beaten him; her child had bitten him until he bled, yet she showed no concern. He'd been furious, but he hadn't retaliated. He'd waited for her message, for her comfort, but felt utterly alone. No one cared!

He pursed his lips, picked up his phone, and called the kindergarten. After two rings, Harper answered, her sweet voice chirping, "Hello, this is XX kindergarten. Who are you looking for?" It wasn't Olive. Hand in pocket, Elvis replied in a deep, magnetic voice, "I'm looking for Nathan's teacher, Olive Hart."

Harper Clark, on the other end, felt a thrill upon hearing his voice—seductive as fine French wine. Nathan… this man was seeking the Augustine family's little prince. Could he be… Elvis Augustine, the reigning monarch of the Augustine family, the tycoon himself? She'd met Nathan, but this was beyond anything she'd expected.

"Excuse me, are you little Nathan's father? Teacher Hart isn't here. If there's a problem, you can tell me. I'm new here, also teaching little Nathan. My name is Harper."

Elvis frowned. He'd been looking for Olive, not engaging in flirtatious banter. He hung up abruptly. Harper's anxious voice trailed off, "Hey, Nathan's dad… are you still there…?"

At Serenity Villa, darkness had fallen. Aunty Layla opened the door, "Master, you're back!"

Elvis entered, changed his shoes, and looked upstairs. "Where's Nathan?"

"Sir, the little master is asleep."

"Okay." Elvis grunted, unbuttoning his shirt and rolling up his sleeves, revealing sturdy wrists and a fine steel watch. "Where's Miss Hart?"

"Master, Miss Hart is also asleep in the guest room."

"Got it." He ascended the stairs.

After a quick cold shower, he emerged in black silk pajamas. He towel-dried his hair, tossed the towel aside, and entered the guest room. A dim table lamp illuminated a small figure curled on the bed—Olive, fast asleep.

He approached the bed, studying her sleeping face. Its delicate beauty was enhanced by sleep; a soft pink blush graced her cheeks. She slept soundly. He gently threaded his fingers through her dark hair, inhaling her scent—the feminine fragrance he craved. His throat bobbed, and he kissed her lips.

Olive frowned, a heavy weight pressing upon her, making it hard to breathe. Her eyelids fluttered open to reveal Elvis's handsome face magnified before her. Her mind reeled. She hadn't expected him back tonight, or to find him in her room.

He kissed her again, his teeth gently biting her lip. Olive felt uncomfortable, pushing him away with her hands. His kiss intensified as she awoke.

"Mmm!" She gritted her teeth. He released her.

"Elvis," she gasped, her face flushed, eyes glistening, her voice soft with sleep, "What are you doing? Let me out!"

He traced her swollen lips, "Open your mouth."

"I don't want to…"

He pinched her cheek. "Olive, you're not here for fun. I'm a man with needs. If you can't satisfy me, leave, and don't see Nathan again. I'll find someone else."

Her heart ached from his repeated humiliations. "Elvis, I haven't forgotten our agreement. You don't sleep with the same woman twice, but I'm willing to make an exception. But you always barge in like you haven't seen a woman in three years."

The statement sparked a fury within him. It was true; he hadn't touched a woman in three years. But what about her? The image of her with another man flooded his mind, igniting cold hostility. He kissed her hard, biting her lip.

Olive cried out in pain. He finally released her, seeing the damage he'd inflicted— her hair clinging to her face, blood on her lip. His handsome brow furrowed as he suppressed his rage. The thought of her with another man had consumed him.

Without a word, he began to remove her pajamas.

"Elvis, no! Did you forget I'm menstruating?"