Chapter 548

Olive, you are so realistic. The luxurious room fell silent as Olive's words landed like a hammer blow. Did she just say she slept with Elvis? Oh, God. The business owners, especially Mr. Campbell, felt a wave of dread. What had he done? How dare he touch Elvis's woman? Elvis, a force in the business world for years, was known for his iron fist and unwavering resolve. Anyone who crossed him faced dire consequences.

At that moment, Elvis hugged Olive's slim waist, his dark eyes sweeping coldly over the faces of the assembled men. "Olive," he said, "tell these men whose woman you are. Tell these bastards you won't submit to them."

Olive looked up at him, her voice obedient yet defiant: "I am Elvis's woman, and I won't submit to anyone but him!"

The audience fell silent. Were they witnessing a romantic scene? Mr. Campbell's legs gave way, his body trembling. "Mr. Augustine… Mr. Augustine, I'm blind! I didn't know this beauty was yours. Even if I had ten lives, I wouldn't dare covet your woman!"

Elvis raised an eyebrow, a slight curl to his lips. "Do you want to do it yourself, or shall I?"

Cold sweat drenched Mr. Campbell. Elvis's dominance was unmistakable; he intended to make him pay. Who told him to drug Olive's wine?

"Mr. Augustine, I… I'll do it myself. It's my fault. I beg your pardon…"

Without hesitation, Mr. Campbell grabbed a bottle of wine and smashed it over his own head. The bottle shattered, wine and blood mingling in an extremely humiliating display. The shards of glass cut his skin, and two streams of blood trickled down his head. He had struck himself hard, knowing Elvis would strike harder.

"Mr… Mr. Augustine, I…" Mr. Campbell mumbled, too ashamed to wipe the blood, his gaze fixed timidly on Elvis.

Elvis's gaze moved from Mr. Campbell to the other businessmen. He wouldn't tolerate their complicity in drugging Olive. After dealing with Mr. Campbell, he would turn his attention to them. Their faces paled. Seeing Mr. Campbell's fate, they quickly raised their glasses. "Mr. Augustine," they stammered, "no need. We'll drink ourselves. To be polite, of course." They began to drink.

Elvis's handsome face remained impassive. His deep voice, however, held a hint of amusement. "Then drink slowly. Tonight, my treat. Everyone drinks until they vomit."

Drink until they vomit? The businessmen's faces fell.

After dealing with them, Elvis embraced Olive. "Let's go."

"Wait a minute," Olive said, playfully wrapping her arms around his neck and winking. "You've forgotten someone—your new love, Harper."

Harper, sitting alone in the corner, had witnessed Elvis's protectiveness toward Olive, burning with jealousy. Now, Olive's words sent a chill down her spine.

Olive pointed at Harper, her pouty lips and slightly tipsy demeanor a potent weapon. "Elvis, your new love bullied me. Will you avenge me?"

Elvis didn't look at Harper, as if she didn't exist. He pinched Olive's waist. "You know she's my new love. How can I avenge you?"

Olive, ever playful, leaned in and kissed his cheek. "Muah," she said. "President Augustine, would you consider kicking Harper to the curb and taking me to the top?"

Elvis raised an eyebrow, feigning consideration. "With this kiss, you want to be at the top?"

Olive's lips found his, her tongue playfully tracing his. She batted her lashes. "How about this?"

A smile played on Elvis's lips. "Okay, I'll avenge you. Tomorrow, she'll disappear from Imperial."

With that, Elvis carried Olive away. Harper froze, her mind reeling from his words. Tomorrow, she would disappear from Imperial. Her legs gave way, and she collapsed onto the carpet. She was finished. She had climbed so high, reaching the heights of Imperial, standing beside a man like Elvis. But in the blink of an eye, he had cast her into hell. It felt like a dream.

Back in the presidential suite, Elvis gently set Olive down. His large frame enveloped her as he bent to kiss her. Before she could react, his kiss stole her breath. Dizzy, she pushed him away. But his body was an unyielding wall, his hands on her waist, pushing her back against the French window. A deep voice rumbled between kisses, "You used me, you wrapped yourself around me, and now you want to kick me out? Olive, you're so realistic!"

Olive, drunk, her eyes blurry, protested, "That's not what I meant… ah!" She cried out suddenly. Elvis pulled back, supporting himself against the wall. "What's wrong?"

Olive panicked. "My… my little penis is gone!"

Elvis thought: He didn't know what happened to other women when they were drunk, but Olive always looked for her little penis!