The Substitute Bride: Doted by My billionaire Husband by Sumpto Midway Chapter 6 Fight me, you guys?
Olive who laid on the bed suddenly opened her eyes.
Ronald was stunned. “Didn’t she say that she’d be asleep for two hours? Why then did she wake up now?”
“Little beauty… why, are you awake?” He stuttered, trying to reduce the air of awkwardness.
Olive’s bright eyes overflowed with a sly and playful smile, “How will I watch the wonderful show, if I ain’t awake?”
“Y..you…“he faltered.
Olive stretched out her hand and flicked it. President Ronald felt a strange fragrance in his nostril. He suddenly lost his vigour and collapsed to the ground.
Olive stood up from the bed, she opened the drawer and brought out a twine. She tied his hands and legs with it.
Olive went back to the drawer, she took out two bones. She looked over at him and asked, “Mr. Ronald, what do you think this is for?”
“What are you doing with the bones?”
“The thing is, Monica didn’t tell you. In this home, we have a wolf dog. The dog is very fierce and likes to eat meat and bones especially.”
President Ronald was a pervert. He had coveted Olive for a long time. But now all he could do was tremble. “What are you trying to do?”
Olive moved closer to him, she moved her hand down and tucked the two fleshly bones into Mr. Ronald’s pants. “President Ronald, the game has begun. The wolf dog will come in later, you have to be careful, so he doesn’t bite the wrong place.”
“No. little beauty. I was wrong. Please let me go…. This isn’t a joke, those wild animals really do kill.” He knelt and begged her.
Olive walked over and opened the door.
“Ah!” President Ronald screamed in agony.
Monica awaited the good news downstairs. All of a sudden, the door to the room flung open and Mr. Ronald, who was carrying his pants, ran down.
Monica was startled, “Mr. Ronald, what’s wrong?”
Mr Ronald who was so frightened that he smashed the piece of bone on Monica’s body, “Monica, this is in return for the good deeds that I’ve done for you, huh?”
He furiously stormed out of the house.
Monica stood bewilderedly. “What’s going on?”
Monica quickly headed upstairs and entered the room. In the room, Olive was sitting on a chair and was eating chocolates comfortably. She raised her eyes to meet Monica’s appalled face, “Ma, you’re here. I found this in the cupboard.”
Olive had been awaiting her!
Monica was shocked. She knew she had been exposed, but how come? She witnessed Olive eating the slice of pizza.
“Olive, did you have a prior knowledge that something wasn’t right with the pizza?” Monica questioned trying to satisfy her curiosity.
“I just wanted to see what you were capable of. But ma, you disappointed me with such petty trick.”
“Olive, I’m not playing games with you! Just now, President Ronald left angrily. You must apologize! Guards!” She spoke viciously.
“Yes, Ma’am!” About six sturdy men clothed in black quickly arrived.
“Olive, I hire these guards with a very high salary. Do you think you can beat them?”
Olive’s pau–of eyes suddenly turned cold.
“Come on, catch her!”

With Monica’s order, one of the men flashed in front of Olive reaching out to grab her. Olive’s small hand was quietly placed
on her waist.
A big hand with vigour reached out and gently folded the bodyguard’s wrist. With a click, the bodyguard’s hand was twisted and broken.
The man pushed the guard backwards and they all went crashing to the ground.
Olive quickly raised her eyes and saw a tall man in front of her.
Elvis!
“Why are you here?” Olive was shocked.
“It seemed like I missed a good show.” Elvis’s voice sounded. It was low, devoid of emotion, yet magnetic.
Monica never expected that someone would suddenly break into their home. She looked at the man beside Olive. The man was. handsome. He concealed a sense of indifference and coldness.
As Mrs Hart. Monica was familiar with the upper class in Los Angeles. She was certain she hadn’t met him prior.
She recalled that Gabriella has told her that Olive had hired a gigolo.
Could it be him?
“Olive, is this the young gigolo you hired?
Young gigolo?
Hearing those words, Elvis frowned. He seemed a bit dissatisfied. He looked at Olive and asked, “A young gigolo? Is that what you told her?”
Olive waved her small hand negatively, “No, I didn’t say nothing.”
Monica had exhausted her patience, “What the hell are you guys still doing? Can’t you all handle a gigolo? Hurry up now!”
Some bodyguards wanted stepping forward, but Elvis gently lifted his eyelids and looked condescendingly at them. “You guys wanna fight me?”
The guards felt their heart palpitate. They turned hastily and fled.
Monica was trembling with anger. She had never seen such an arrogant gigolo, who acted as though he was a boss in a high position.
The bodyguards she had hired had all run away. She could only stare helplessly.
“Do you intend on having a dinner here? Let’s go.” Elvis said to Olive.
“Oh. okay.”
Olive quickly trailed Elvis. She passed by Monica and whispered. “Next time, use your housekeeping skills. You wouldn’t want me laughing at you.”
Monica was so furious that she almost spat blood.
Inside the car. Olive glanced at the man beside her.
Elvis stared at her and asked, “If I didn’t show up, what would you have done?”
Olive hesitated then said. “I could have fought them. If you didn’t show up. I could have handled them.”
Elvis remembered her story. He knew she was rejected and bullied from age nine. The fight was probably something she had learnt in self–defense.
If she could deal with the scaring men on the train, the bodyguards didn’t pose as much of a hassle.
“Girls don’t fight. Fighting is a man’s business.”
“I don’t like to rely on others, but Mr. Augustine, thank you for now.”
Looking at her sincere face, Elvis furrowed his brow, “Is that how you say thank you?”
Olive was stunned, “How do you want me to say thank you?
Elvis eyes fell on her reddish lips. “You do not understand the way women thank men?”
Chapter 7 Feeding You, My Mrs. Augustine.
His gaze on her lips was already hinting on something. He implied that the best way to thank a man was to blow a kiss.
Olive heart skipped a beat. Her earlobe had already turned red. “I don’t understand.”
She turned and focused her gaze on the scenery outside the window in a bid to ignore him.
Elvis looked at her and knew she was avoiding him. She had a smart, agile and independent personality.
The car halted at the traffic light. Olive sighted the most famous cake shop in Los Angeles.
“Want some cakes?” Elvis’s low pitched voice sounded in her ear.
Her eyes revealed a bit of sentimentality, she said softly. “My mother used to take me to there to buy cakes.”
Elvis turned the steering and stopped on the side of the road. “If you want some. Let’s go get it.”
The cake shop was a big time brand in Los Angeles. It was especially popular in the circle of celebrities. It was sold in limited quantities each day.
Olive had had a liking for cakes since she was a child. Her mother frequent brought her here to purchase them. It was the best time in her memory.
It’s been ten years since Olive had been here. Her eyes itched and tears had welled up in it. She didn’t want Elvis to see her cry, so she said to him. “Ill be at the washroom.”
Elvis stared at her as she exited the car. He had just seen her cry. She was still very tender at heart.
He opened the car door and walked into the cake’s shop. Coincidentally, Gabriella was also in the cake shop along with her best friend Pearl Wright.
Pearl pulled Gabriella, “Gabriella, you said just now that, that your half–sister, Olive has a young gigolo, how true is that?”
Gabriella scoffed. “Of course it’s true. I witnessed it myself. She was dropped off by a man.”
“Getting a gigolo is quite expensive though, and Olive just returned from the orphanage. Where did she get the money to hire one from?” Pearl questioned doubtfully.
“You do know that everything are in classes. Some gigolos who are handsome and good–looking may earn about a thousand dollars. But those who aren’t, it wouldn’t be that costly though.” Gabriella explained.
“I need a cake.” A deep charismatic voice sounded.
The voice was way too good.
Gabriella and Pearl turned their gazes to the direction where the voice came from.
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