Chapter 585

Is this kid your son? Olive hastily reached out to touch his hard chest, wanting to push him away. Elvis hugged her slim waist, refusing to let go. A hoarse voice spilled from his lips: “Come to my place tonight, okay? It’s been a long time since you left Imperial. I haven’t had a woman around lately. I think about it…” He truly did think about it. In the palace earlier, she’d hidden at his feet like a little milk cat, breathing her orchid-like breath over his sensitive areas. His waist had gone numb. Olive avoided his hot, aggressive kisses. She thought wildly. It had been many days since she’d left Imperial. What had happened to him?

“Elvis, let go of me.”

Elvis’s kiss fell on her long hair; he fondly sniffed its scent. “Get in my car.”

“I don’t want to.” Olive struggled in his lap, her movements light. She dared not provoke him, lest he mention The Ambassador’s sword. Elvis, sensing her refusal, held her tighter, her lithe body rubbing against his, igniting a fire. He simply wanted to take her in his arms, place her in his luxury car, and drive her home—or to any hotel with a vacant room. In short, he wanted to throw her onto a big bed.

Suddenly, a chill ran down Elvis’s spine, as if cold water had been splashed on him. A childish voice piped up: “Handsome uncle, bullying women isn’t brave. Let go of my mom.”

Elvis was stunned. He quickly turned, and Levi, a small boy, came into view—the same boy who’d sprayed him with water. Levi now held a toy gun. Elvis’s pupils constricted. This was the child he’d seen at the airport; the boy who’d pointed a toy gun at his head and demanded he raise his hands.

“Mom?” Elvis turned to Olive, asking, “Is this kid your son?”

Olive’s long, slender eyelashes trembled violently. She hadn’t expected the elusive Levi to appear and meet Elvis, his biological father. “Levi, why are you here?” She quickly ran to him, hugging him protectively to her chest, shielding him from Elvis’s view. Elvis’s handsome eyebrows were furrowed. Olive’s protective concern and wariness were evident; she clearly feared he would hurt her son. At the airport, Elvis had doubted Levi’s identity because of his resemblance to Olive, especially his beautiful eyes. He’d suspected then that Levi was her son. Now, it was unexpectedly true. Though he’d been mentally prepared, his loose hands clenched into fists. This was the son of her and Derrick Domino.

The past three years flooded back. Elvis had always believed his wounds were healed, but today, he found the wound in his heart still bleeding. Olive had aborted his child but had given birth to a son with Derrick!

Elvis looked at Levi, a three-year-old transcendent genius with an IQ as high as Nathan's. He was not only a superb marksman but also a top computer hacker. Her son with Derrick was exceptionally gifted!

“Mom, don’t be afraid. With me here, he wouldn’t dare bully you,” Levi said, needing no protection. He was protecting her. Holding his toy gun, his large black eyes fixed on Elvis, he declared, “Handsome uncle, if you want to bully my mom, you have to overtake me first. Do you dare to compete with me?”

Elvis solemnly looked at the boy, his thin lips curling in amusement. “Kid, now you are not my opponent. You can come and compete with me twenty years later.”

Levi’s immediate reaction—raising his delicate eyebrows at the perceived disdain—reminded Elvis of his son, Nathan.

Olive hastily intervened, “Levi, you misunderstood. The handsome uncle wasn’t bullying me. We were just… talking.” Levi was Elvis’s son; she didn’t want conflict at their first meeting, so she lied.

“Huh? Is that so? But just now I saw him kiss you…” Levi said wide-eyed. Even a bright child didn’t understand adult love. “Could it be that Mom and he were applauding just now?”

“Applauding?” Olive asked, confused.

Levi nodded rapidly. “Yes, Grandma said applauding is to appreciate the love.”

Olive’s face flushed crimson. Why had her mother told Levi that? She quickly covered his mouth. “Mr. Augustine, I have work to do. I’ll go first.”

Olive carried Levi into the luxurious nanny car, which sped away. Elvis, who’d intended to take Olive home for the night, was thwarted by Levi and returned alone.

Back in his bedroom, Elvis unbuttoned his shirt, revealing a strong, wheat-colored physique. His body, far from the exaggerated build of gym-goers, was refined and expensive—a perfect inverted triangle, accented by an expensive black belt. He looked at the translucent water on his shirt from Levi’s toy gun and smiled, then the smile vanished. It was Derrick’s son; he should hate him.

More than three years ago, he’d tried to give Olive abortion medicine. Elvis felt irritable. He dropped his shirt and went to the French window, standing there bare-chested, lighting a cigarette. He looked mysterious and sexy. His phone beeped; a message arrived: “Hello, handsome uncle.”