Chapter 148

Olive fell into Marvin's embrace, her pale face pressed against his lean chest. The girl in his arms seemed boneless. Her sweet scent was unchanged from two years ago. Marvin lowered his handsome eyelids and gently placed a hand on her shoulders. Pamela stood outside, watching. She'd wanted to share good news with Olive, but instead found this scene. Quickly covering her mouth, she quietly moved aside to hide. She knew Marvin was a student at the institute, but not his background. He was handsome, but Pamela prided herself on not being shallow; she never expected this. Olive was married, to Elvis Augustine. Pamela's heart pounded. She'd caught Olive; her luck had arrived. Without hesitation, she photographed them and forwarded the image to Elvis. Then, she waited.

A Rolls-Royce Phantom silently pulled up outside the Ivory Council. Elvis arrived to collect Olive. He hadn't slept all night, wearing a black turtleneck and coat. He checked his phone, constantly refreshing Olive's chat—she was his only followed account. Hours passed without a message. He called the Red Villa; Grandma said Olive hadn't returned. It was late; where was she?

He felt the urge to smoke. His grandmother had teased him for his frantic search. He pursed his lips, laughing at himself. His anger had morphed into fear—fear she wouldn't speak to him, fear she'd run away. He was about to call when a message arrived. The photograph Pamela sent filled his screen.

The message read: Dated: My Billionaire Husband

Elvis's deep pupils narrowed; his tall frame froze. He stared at the picture repeatedly. It was his Mrs. Augustine, in Marvin's arms.

Silence filled the pharmacy. Marvin gently held Olive. After a time, she slowly regained consciousness. The mandala flower's poison was potent, but Olive's medical genius and near-invulnerability to toxins had saved her. Another dose would be necessary. Olive tried to open her eyes, but darkness persisted. She felt a hand on her shoulder and heard Marvin's voice: "Are you alright?" Realizing she was leaning against him, she weakly pushed him away. A cold voice cut through the air, "Wow, what a beautiful show!"

Olive looked up. Elvis stood by the door, his body radiating coldness. His narrowed eyes held a terrifying intensity; she saw the murderous intent. "Mr. Augustine," she cried, but he was already striding towards them. A powerful fist connected with Marvin's face, drawing blood. Another followed. "Marvin, do you know who she is? She's my wife!" Elvis roared. Marvin wiped the blood, his gaze dark. "A monster?" Elvis’s lips were dry. He unleashed a flurry of blows. Terrified—this was the first time she'd seen Elvis strike anyone—Olive struggled to her feet, rushing to hug him from behind. "Mr. Augustine, that's enough, please."

His movements restricted, he straightened, roaring, "Let go! Do you hear me?"

"You've misunderstood! We weren't doing anything! Just stop hitting him!" She dared not release him, knowing his fury. His chest heaved like a wild beast. He turned, grabbing her wrist to pull her away. Marvin rose, seizing her other wrist. Both men held her.