Billionaire and His Scheming Beauty

Chapter 47: Olivier, You're an Asshole

"Then get ready to become a backup." Olivier's words were straightforward, a bright flush of warmth

beneath his lips. "But I believe with Fleur's beauty she has more than enough backups at this point.

You'll have to wait in line behind Waldo." He paused, then continued, "She won't be going to the club

tonight. If you want to wait, do as you wish."

The call ended. Content property of NôvelDra/ma.Org.

Olivier clenched his phone, a vein throbbing in his hand. It took half a minute to subside.

Just then, Yves came into his office, saying, "Mr. Martinez, Miss Lopez has been in an accident."

......

Back at the Oriental Estate, Fleur had gotten many ingredients from a rare trip to the supermarket.

She bought so much red lines had been etched into her skin from the weight of carrying them.

In the kitchen, she first divided into the ingredients into different categories, then devoted to studying

various recipes. Cooking was not difficult, she just had to practice a few times to get the hang of it.

Fleur repeatedly made the same dish until she got it right. It took her three hours, from 4 to 7 PM, for

the four dishes to be complete and served. Her hands were heavily wounded by then.

She had several blisters on the back of her hands, some burn injury, and even bloody cuts on her

fingers.

She had never had any experience cooking. It was much more stressful and tough than working, she

found. Fleur could not help feeling a sense of pride when she looked at the food she had made.

Lulu came out of nowhere, hopped on the table and headed straight for the shrimp dish.

"This is not for you." Fleur tried to lure it away but Lulu did not budge.

Fleur then relented and fed her a piece of shrimp. The cat took a bite then spat it out. It meowed

woefully at Fleur.

Then she pawed along the table as if digging at cat litter.

With a pair of chopsticks in hand, Fleur shooed it off.

Lulu went to the kitchen, but reappeared a second later to meow at Fleur. It was meowing for water.

She went and poured some water for Lulu, then pat its head as it lapped the water up.

Fleur could not imagine how awful the food tasted for even the cat to have spat it out.

.....

7.30 PM. 8PM. 9PM. Olivier still had not returned home. The dishes were already cold. Fleur did not

eat either, waiting for him to come back. Her hands were hurting badly.

At 9.30 PM, when Fleur was about to call Olivier, she saw a news headline pop up in her phone

notifications.

"Celebrity star Virginie Lopez injured during filming, rumored CEO lover to the rescue from 100 miles

away."

Fleur clicked on it. A photo of Olivier bridal-carrying Virginie with her invisible injury in his arms popped

up. Just the picture alone gave off Olivier's domineering aura.

The filming was located at the edge of Y City, more than 100 miles distance from city centre. To go that

far one would have to use the highway. Olivier sure was determined.

No wonder he was not back yet. He was likely staying at the hospital with his beloved Virginie.

Fleur opened a social media app and scrolled through the comments. They were pretty much the

same: either admiring Miss Lopez fortune to have such a man around, or admiring a dedicated man

such as Olivier, or praising them as a dream-come-true couple.

She stopped after two minutes, going to place it on the desk. But with her hand injuries twinging, her

grip slipped and her phone landed heavily against the surface.

Fleur went and laid down on the sofa.

She switched on a random TV channel, lefts its volume on, and slept. An arm was raised and splayed

across her face, creating a portrait of pleasant beauty.

Lulu dashed over a moment later into her arms, nuzzling and playing cute. Fleur held it close in

response. Lulu fell asleep after some time, creating a beacon of warmth in Fleur's arms.

She didn't know how much time had passed before the growl of a car engine sounded outside. Light

splashed across the walls, illuminating the clock. It was one in the morning.

It was already this late? Fleur had really just slept on the sofa for that long without waking up.

The door opened. Fleur could feel Olivier's gaze on her as he entered.

A minute later, he came over.

Sitting across from her, Olivier said hoarsely, "Get up."

Fleur did not move.

Olivier could easily tell she was awake. "I had some things holding up my time, that's why..." he said

placidly.

She still did not budge.

"I'll say it again: get up."

Only then did Fleur open her eyes. Hair fell across her face, half shielding her eyes. She gazed at him

from behind her curtain of her.

Her eyes were cold.

"Do my emotions not matter just because I have a reason for getting close to you? So I can't even be

angry at you?"

"It honestly doesn't matter too much to me," Olivier spoke without sugarcoating anything.

Fleur closed her eyes, jaw clenching.

"But aren't you already angry? That's why I'm trying to comfort you here."

"Do you think just telling me you're busy is enough to comfort me?"

"Miss. Leroy," Olivier addressed her with that title again. He moved her hair away from her eyes,

revealing her delicate face. "I am explaining why I came back late because I am a man, not because of

any affection towards you."

In other words, Olivier was only being polite because of his upbringing, and this explanation of his was

for his own ears only so he could feel better, not for her!

Odette had said, “Those of us in this circle are prideful, even though we may not look like it."

Fleur slowly got up, waking Lulu in her lap. It turned over and went back to sleep.

"You bastard," Fleur whispered.

Olivier's eyes flitted over her hands, immediately spotting the red-stained bandages. He frowned.

"Olivier, you bullied me."

"Mm." He grunted nonchalantly and retrieved a first aid kit from beneath the tea table.

"I've never suffered this much with any man."

The light falling on Olivier's face accented his strong masculine aura, creating a magnetic, attractive

charm.

His features and the way he held himself added to it too.

"I've never let a woman suffer like this before either," He said quietly, propping the kit up. "I was only

provoked, tempted, angered, and abused."

Fleur knew he was talking about herself. "Why won't you ask me what my motive ask? I'd tell you if you

would just ask."

"Miss Leroy." Olivier's dark yet sharp eyes met hers. "I don't want to know. I just want to see you slowly

reveal yourself to me and watch you fumble trying to hide. When it comes to prey, half the fun is

already watching it panic and not know what to do."

He added, "And I can still use this motive of yours to manipulate you. Why wouldn't I be glad to be kept

in the dark?"