Chapter 626
Elvis raised his head, looking at Olive beside Clara. Olive, realizing Clara's scheme—deliberately including her to incite Elvis's dislike—knew she was being used as a pawn. After all, no one welcomed a third wheel. Olive met Elvis's gaze; his narrow, deep eyes fixed on her face before she quickly averted her own. He showed no emotion, his feelings hidden behind a mask of impassivity born of age and experience. His thoughts remained unreadable.
"Get in," Elvis said, opening the passenger door. The seat, of course, was for Clara. She smiled sweetly, then, seemingly remembering Olive, said, "Sadie, I'll take the front; you sit in the back."
Clara settled into the passenger seat, Elvis into the driver's seat. Olive hesitated, then slowly opened the rear door. She didn't want to be a third party; Clara was clearly trying to make her jealous. But tonight, she could see Nathan—a long-awaited reunion.
The Rolls-Royce Phantom sped down the road. Clara turned to Elvis. "Mr. Augustine, you know many wealthy CEOs, don't you?" The neon lights reflected on his handsome face, accentuating his striking features.
"Mr. Augustine," Clara continued, "my assistant, Sadie, has been with me a long time. I consider her like a sister. She's of marrying age, and I'd like to help her find a suitable match. You know many affluent people; perhaps you could introduce her to some eligible bachelors?" She smiled charmingly.
Olive remained silent. Elvis said nothing, simply turning the wheel and smoothly changing lanes.
"Mr. Augustine," Clara persisted, "it's not just about money, though Sadie does hope to marry well. She understands her humble background might be a deterrent to some." Clara frowned.
Olive, from the back seat, rolled her eyes. Clara, raised in Greenland's complex social circles, was expertly manipulating the situation, portraying herself as vain and ambitious to Elvis.
"What do you think of her?" Clara asked Elvis.
Olive looked up at him. Elvis subtly lifted his eyelids, glancing at her through the rearview mirror. For a brief moment, their eyes locked. Olive saw indifference in his deep gaze before he looked away. Her heart quickened; she wondered how to reach him.
"I have nothing to say about her life," Elvis replied indifferently.
He brought Clara and Olive to his villa. Clara, eyes searching for Nathan, immediately asked, "Mr. Augustine, where is Nathan?"
At the entrance, Elvis pocketed his keys. "Nathan is on his way back. You can see him later."
"Really? I miss him so much," Clara said, her acting flawless.
"I'll prepare a meal for Nathan," she announced, entering the kitchen. Though she couldn't cook, she began washing some vegetables. A hand encircled her waist.
"I'll shower first. Come up later," a voice whispered in her ear.
Clara knew it was Elvis. He'd invited her to his room. Blushing, she asked, "What are you doing?"
"I have a wound on my back. I need to tend to it," he explained, releasing her and heading upstairs.
Clara paused, formulating a plan. She found Olive. "Olive, bring a first-aid kit upstairs and help Elvis with his back."
If Elvis discovered it was Olive, he'd be furious. It would confirm, in Clara's mind, Olive's supposed scheming nature. A perfect opportunity to watch the drama unfold.
Olive didn't move, already anticipating Clara's intentions.
"Olive, don't defy me! Sadie is in my hands. If you refuse, my mother won't give her the antidote tonight. You know what will happen if she doesn't get it!" Clara threatened.
Olive glared at Clara and went upstairs with the kit. Upstairs, in the master bedroom, Elvis, having showered, was shirtless. His body was impressive.
Hearing the door open, he sat by the bed, back turned, towel discarded. "Are you here to treat my wound?" he asked.
Olive stood by the door, knowing he thought she was Clara. Reluctant, she noticed the deep wound on his back—a scar from saving her life. She slowly approached and stood behind him, seeing the lingering water droplets on his damp skin.