Chapter 546: Falling into His Lap
Olive watched a luxury car pull up. Peterson emerged. “Miss Clark, our young master sent me to collect you. Please, get in.” He gestured politely.
Harper, radiating smugness, looked at Olive. “Miss Hart, you’ve never ridden in such luxury, have you? Don’t be jealous. I’m off to join my boyfriend. Goodbye.” She climbed in, her body swaying. Peterson nodded to Olive and drove away.
Olive remained where she stood. She hadn't expected Elvis to send Peterson and his car for Harper. Apparently, Harper had pleased him the previous night. In contrast, Olive’s own encounter had left him unmoved. Taking a deep breath, she hailed a taxi. “Follow that luxury car,” she instructed the driver. She would find Elvis, and following Harper would lead her to him.
She arrived at a six-star hotel—Elvis's hotel. It was enormous, palatial. Having lost sight of Harper, she felt disoriented. Then, she heard footsteps. Elvis, in a black shirt and tailored trousers, was surrounded by business associates. He possessed a kingly aura as he walked across the carpeted floor. Harper, in a striking purple dress, walked gracefully beside him, her arm linked in his.
Olive paused, her gaze meeting Elvis’s for a fleeting moment. He quickly looked away, his expression cold, as if she were a stranger. He entered a luxurious VIP room with Harper and the others. Olive frowned. She wouldn't see Lil' Nathan unless she appeased Elvis, but his coldness made approaching him difficult.
Waiters carried in expensive red wine. Olive quickly stepped forward. "Let me," she said, entering the VIP room. Elvis was lounging on a sofa, Harper lighting his cigarette.
Business associates laughed. “Mr. Augustine, is Miss Clark your new mistress?” one asked. Another chimed in, “Mr. Augustine’s taste is remarkably consistent. His previous girlfriends were all fair-skinned, long-legged, with long, straight black hair. Quite the straight man’s preference, haha.”
Elvis, frowning, took a drag of his cigarette, remaining silent. Someone spotted Olive. “Hey, where did this beauty come from? Come in!” A push from behind sent Olive stumbling. She fell forward, kneeling on the carpet, her face near Elvis's lap. A hush fell over the room.
Olive felt pain, her knee throbbing. As she reached to rise, Elvis's eyes flickered. He watched her, her face buried near his groin, her hand resting on his waist. Harper had assumed a similar position the night before, yet he felt nothing then; now, a different sensation washed over him.
He threaded his fingers through her hair, pulling her head up. “What are you doing?”
He held his cigarette to her lips, the smoke stinging her. “I… I didn’t mean to,” she choked out.
The business associates laughed cruelly. “Mr. Augustine, your charm is undeniable. This little beauty has fallen right into your lap.” “She seems innocent, but she’s clearly scheming,” another added. Harper, already irritated by Olive's presence, watched with simmering anger.
Ignoring the others, Elvis looked into Olive’s face. “Did you eat well?”
Olive glared. “President Augustine is wealthy, I can’t afford to!” The men erupted in disrespectful laughter. “The little girl knows how to pick ’em. She went straight for Mr. Augustine. She knows he’s rich and powerful, haha.”