Chapter 702: His Savior

Peterson was stunned. He couldn't believe his master wanted to bring the unconscious girl back to the villa.

Elvis added, "Don't let Olive know about this, understood?"

Peterson nodded nervously. "Yes, sir."

Elvis took the girl to the villa. The personal doctor arrived shortly.

"Mr. Augustine, the patient is stable and should awaken soon. She's suffered prolonged abuse and is malnourished; please monitor her closely," the doctor informed Elvis.

After the doctor left, Elvis remained by the girl's bedside. She appeared delicate, yet possessed an oval, beautiful face.

Suddenly, she stirred and opened her eyes. Disoriented, she looked around.

"Are you awake?" Elvis asked.

Startled, the girl sat up, pulling the quilt around her. "Who are you? Don't come near!" she exclaimed, eyeing him warily.

Elvis's expression remained impassive. His gaze fell upon her necklace. "Who gave you that necklace?" he whispered.

She clutched the necklace. "It's mine! It's none of your business! No one can touch it!" She guarded it fiercely, her concern evident.

Elvis dropped the subject. "Rest well," he said, turning to leave.

In his study, Elvis reviewed documents when Peterson entered. "Master, I've confirmed Pamela died in prison a few days ago."

"She deteriorated mentally after imprisonment, falling ill and barely surviving for four years before succumbing," Peterson explained.

Elvis calmly signed the document, listening without looking up.

"Before her death, Pamela spoke about you and Olive; her words weren't pleasant. She claimed you two couldn't be together. She spoke of you both for about four days before she died," Peterson recounted.

Elvis didn't believe in curses. "Anything else?"

"Her final statements were recorded. The video is here," Peterson said, opening his laptop.

Elvis paused his work. Pamela appeared on screen—haggard and unrecognizable after four years of imprisonment. She lay on the cold, dirty ground, her hatred undiminished. "Olive, I hate you! You ruined my life! You think you and Elvis will be happy together? Dream on!" A strange smile touched her lips. "I have a secret... I won't tell anyone... Haha, Elvis, you chose wrong! You deserve this!" she cackled before closing her eyes.

The video ended.

"Master, Pamela never revealed her secret. What do you think it was? What did she mean by 'you chose wrong'?" Peterson asked.

Elvis was deep in thought, wondering if the girl at the villa was the one who had saved him, not Pamela.

"You may go," he finally said.

"Yes, Master," Peterson replied, departing.

Elvis went to the window, gazing at the city lights. He then messaged Olive.

Olive had returned to the villa, finding Granny Constance waiting.

"Grandma, you're here? You didn't even tell me!" Olive exclaimed, taking her grandmother's hand.

Granny Constance, childless and deeply devoted to Visionary and the princess, was greatly loved.

She studied Olive's face, then nodded. "My dear, you've grown well. I worried about you in Greenland. Our countries are not allies, and I couldn't help but worry."

Olive sensed her grandmother's antipathy towards Greenland. "Grandma, everything's fine. Besides, Mother's here."

"Don't mention your mother! She's the most mischievous princess of Visionary! She shirked her duties for private affairs!"

Olive wondered if her mother would be ashamed. The answer was a resounding no. Joyce had been reprimanded countless times by Granny Constance.

Granny Constance's tone shifted. Taking Olive's hand, she sat on the sofa. "Your mother's greatest contribution is giving birth to you, Olive. You are Visionary's hope. We've been waiting for you—the daughter our ancestors prophesied!"

Olive felt her grandmother's hopes for Visionary.

"Grandma, I'll do my best," Olive pledged solemnly.

Granny Constance nodded, then her expression hardened. "Olive, I'm here because I heard Greenland's true lord has appeared after a hundred years. Who is he?" A glint of fierce intent flashed in her eyes.