Chapter 82: Took Her Home

They all stared at Olive as if she were a lunatic. Elvis, his right hand in his pocket, stood outside the door, his happiness dissolving at the sight of her inebriated state. The women were nearly overcome with fury, barely suppressing their urge to attack her. Knowing it was only a matter of time before Olive's true nature was completely revealed, they pressed on with their accusations.

“Olive, you’re married! You and Mr. Augustine are cheating, aren’t you? And you have no intention of marrying President Augustine, even after a divorce.”

Olive's head swam; she struggled to comprehend their words. The door opened, and Elvis slowly entered. Olive's eyes widened, unsure if she was seeing him or dreaming. She rubbed her eyes. The women leaped to their feet.

“Olive, your true colors are exposed!”

“Mr. Augustine, Olive is brazen! She called you her ‘petite idiot’!”

“Mr. Augustine, Olive has no intention of divorce; she's after your wealth and fame!”

Outside the door, Pamela’s lips curled in a smug smile. She hadn't expected Olive’s drunken confession to be so thorough. A married woman from the country, uttering such outrageous words—how could Elvis Augustine possibly tolerate her? Pamela felt vindicated, her plan to use the celebrity daughters against Olive having proven brilliantly successful. She eagerly awaited the ensuing drama.

Olive stumbled to her feet, swaying toward Elvis. He caught her, pulling her into his arms. He murmured, “Enough?”

Olive clung to his waist, looking up at him. “Mr. Augustine, what did they say?”

Pamela froze. Elvis’s reaction was unexpected. Shouldn't he be angry, pushing Olive away? What was wrong with him?

Elvis gazed at Olive’s innocent, aggrieved, and pitifully drunk face. He gently touched her head.

“Isn’t it fun? Men's glory and wealth are for women to enjoy,” he said to the assembled women.

Stunned silence followed. All eyes turned to Pamela, who stood frozen by the door. Initially, they'd considered Pamela arrogant, but Elvis's audacity eclipsed hers.

Olive remained unhappy. “But they don’t believe me! They don’t believe you’re my… sugar daddy. I want to slap them!”

“I know,” Elvis replied. “Who do you want to slap?”

Olive pointed at the women, then at Pamela. “Her!”

Elvis’s gaze swept the room, settling on Pamela. The women couldn't believe their eyes. Pamela felt a shock run through her; her face paled under Elvis’s cold stare.

Elvis turned back to Olive, his voice softening. “Now they believe. I’ve given them a slap. Can we go?”

Olive hesitated, then shook her head. “No, there’s still North.”

North waved. “Olive, go ahead.”

Before Olive could respond, Elvis scooped her into his arms and carried her out. Pamela called out weakly, “Mr. Augustine!” But he didn’t look back.

Harry caught up with them. “Bro, why the rush? Taking care of her until she sobers up?”

“Get lost!” Elvis yelled.

Harry chuckled as Elvis carried Olive to the car. The women, laden with disappointment, turned to Pamela.

“Pamela, what happened? Didn't Mr. Augustine spend a million dollars on you a few days ago? We thought you two were an item.”

Pamela’s face was ashen. Not only had she failed to humiliate Olive, she had humiliated herself. The entire LA celebrity circle now knew Elvis’s feelings for Olive; his million-dollar gesture meant nothing. Elvis was Olive's greatest asset.

Pamela tried to speak, but someone cut her off. “Can’t you see? Pamela’s been discarded; Olive’s the new love.”

“Mr. Augustine walked right past her, ignoring her completely.”

“Let’s go. He didn’t spend a million on us, and we’re not going to be pawns for anyone.”

The women, initially envious of Pamela, now sneered at her downfall. Once their satisfaction was complete, they swept elegantly from the room.

Pamela had never experienced such a cold reception. She stood frozen, teeth gritted. Spotting Raven, she asked urgently, “Raven, what’s the connection between Olive and President Augustine? Are you hiding something?”

Before Raven could answer, North emerged, seeing Pamela and Raven.

“Hello, bro,” North greeted.

Raven looked her over. North tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and said languidly, “Bro, focus elsewhere. Pamela’s clearly after President Augustine. Don’t wait until you’re used; act fast.”

North left. Raven frowned. Pamela called out impatiently, “Raven, you haven’t answered my question!”

Raven watched North’s retreating figure, then said indifferently to Pamela, “That’s Elvis’s personal matter. Ask him.”

“Raven, you’re impatient. Is it because North’s back?” Pamela couldn’t endure another man dismissing her.

Raven frowned. “I’m not interested in what’s going on between you and Olive. Don’t mess with someone you shouldn’t.”

Pamela’s heart skipped a beat. Raven had always been responsive to her requests, but his tone was different when North was involved. North was his linchpin. Anyone who touched her, touched Raven.

Gwen rushed out, exclaiming, “Raven, I just checked Olive’s drink. It’s ‘One Night Stand,’ the new aphrodisiac I brought back.”

Pamela's expression changed. Raven said nothing, simply turning and leaving. “Raven, where are you going?”

He went to find North. Had she also drunk the aphrodisiac?