Chapter 509: He Severely Insulted Her
Hazel, immediately excited, pouted her red lips and looked at Elvis. “President Augustine, you’re so bad!” With that, she lifted her foot, arrogantly asking Olive to change her shoes. Olive’s face remained expressionless. She obediently changed Hazel’s shoes, then stood, looked at Elvis with bright eyes, and said generously, “President Augustine, it’s done. Can I leave now?”
Seeing Olive's calm, unassuming demeanor, icy coldness filled Elvis's deep eyes. Yet, he calmly replied, “Very good, waitress. Just follow Hazel.” He took Hazel into the Emperor’s Club. The manager quickly addressed Olive, “Why are you standing there? Hurry up and follow. Miss Hazel is now Mr. Augustine’s new favorite mistress. You must serve her well, understand?”
Olive remained silent. Elvis’s order to change Hazel’s shoes was bad enough; now he’d made her Hazel’s maid. She knew he was trying to humiliate her. After three years, their reunion was marked by his harsh insults. All past passion and love were gone, replaced by hatred. If it eased his bitterness, she would accept it. She followed.
Elvis took Hazel to the golf course. Business executives immediately surrounded him, showering him with flattery. “Mr. Augustine, you’re a rare guest. Your presence at the Emperor’s Club is a dream come true. We usually try to schedule appointments through your secretary, but it's impossible to get your schedule.”
“Yo, isn’t that Miss Hazel, the music queen, Mr. Augustine’s new mistress?” “Good riddance to the old one, in with the new!”
Hazel felt a surge of happiness. Despite her musical success, a chasm separated the music world from high society. She’d only seen these powerful businessmen online. To be here, recognized by them, felt surreal—all thanks to Elvis.
“President Augustine, please take your time. The sun’s shining; I’ll rest in the tent,” Hazel said thoughtfully, smiling. Elvis pursed his lips. “Go.”
Hazel, on her high heels, sashayed into the milky white tent on the lawn. Settling onto a chair, she turned to Olive. “Are you deaf? Can’t you see I’m dying of thirst? Get me some water!”
Olive remained silent, but when Hazel commanded, she opened a bottle of mineral water. “Here you go.”
Hazel gritted her teeth, enraged. Twice she’d provoked Olive, yet the woman refused to react. Hazel felt her strength dissolving. “What kind of water is this? It’s awful!” She splashed water onto Olive’s face.
Olive’s hair was soaked; water streamed down her cheeks. Embarrassed, she said, “Oh, I’m sorry, my hand slipped. Are you okay?”
Hazel feigned concern, then pretended to offer Olive some papers. Olive didn’t reach for them. Lifting her lashes, she looked at Hazel, her voice cold. “Does this amuse you?”
Olive’s calm exterior masked a powerful aura that startled the arrogant Hazel. But Hazel quickly recovered her composure. Elvis’s favorite—who had she to fear?
She yelled, “How dare you, a little maid, talk to me like that? Do you know who I am? I’m Mr. Augustine’s new girlfriend! If I complain to him, you’ll be gone from the Imperial tomorrow!”
Olive’s lips curled into a sarcastic smile. “You should worry about yourself. Mr. Augustine’s affections are fleeting; you’ll likely be replaced tomorrow.”
“You!” Hazel exclaimed, realizing Olive was a formidable opponent. Everyone knew Elvis’s relationships were short-lived; Olive had struck a nerve.
Olive turned to leave, intending to change her wet clothes. “Stop!” Hazel called out. “Did I give you permission to go? Your clothes are wet. It’s scorching hot outside—stand in the sun and let them dry.”
Olive ignored her, but then felt Elvis’s gaze upon her. She didn’t know when he’d noticed, but now his thin lips were pursed, his eyes like poisoned ice, piercing her heart. She felt a sharp pain. She knew his ruthlessness; those who crossed him paid dearly. Now, he was slowly torturing her, forcing her to watch him with his new mistress. It was cruel. If he wanted to break her heart, he’d succeeded.
She curled her fingers, but stayed. She stood outside the tent, basking in the sun, listening to Hazel’s taunts. Elvis’s gaze, fixed on Olive, drew the attention of the nearby executives, who also looked.
Their eyes lit up. “Mr. Augustine, who’s that little beauty? Miss Hazel’s assistant?”
“No, she’s wearing an Emperor’s Club uniform.”
“When did such a stunning beauty join the club? Look at her face, her figure…”
These experienced men, accustomed to beautiful women, were captivated by Olive. Elvis, too, was watching her, surprised by her exposed face in the hallway earlier.