Chapter 4

Christopher cleared the room.

In an instant, only he and Olivia remained in the private room.

Her lips, carrying the essence of the alcohol, brushed messily across his jaw, her movements completely uncoordinated yet fatally seductive.

"Don't... don't move..." Olivia mumbled incoherently, her hands restlessly sliding upward, trying to undo Christopher's shirt buttons.

The drug had completely destroyed her rationality. Her cheeks flushed an unhealthy red, light perspiration dampened the stray hairs at her temples, and her eyes were covered with a layer of mist—she couldn't even see the face of the person in front of her clearly.

Christopher's breathing suddenly grew heavy, his Adam's apple rolling more noticeably in his throat.

Olivia's fingertips, burning hot, deftly undid his belt and groped inside without any technique, just happening to grasp his gradually hardening penis.

She seemed to have completely lost all restraint. Her other hand frantically pulled at her own collar; her skirt had already slipped down to her knees in the struggle, and she threw herself into his arms without any defense, soft as if she had no bones.

"Christopher, are you a man or not?" Olivia's voice was wrapped in the drug-induced softness, but her tone carried a hint of frustrated grievance, as if accusing him of being "unmoved."

This comment almost made Christopher laugh in exasperation.

His palm lightly patted her perky buttocks, not hard, but with a hint of punishment. "I told you, I don't touch Robert's woman."

"I'm not his woman!" Olivia suddenly lifted her head, her eyes still misty but showing a stubborn clarity.

"Whether he's touched me or not, don't you know best? Christopher, you're my first man."

Christopher looked at Olivia in his arms, lost in desire yet incredibly serious, and the dryness in his throat became more pronounced.

After struggling for a moment, he finally bent down to pick her up and strode toward the bathroom inside the private room. If this continued, he was afraid he would really lose control.

Cold water instantly poured down from the overhead shower, the icy sensation making Olivia shudder violently, her confused consciousness shocked back to half-clarity.

She instinctively shrank into Christopher's embrace, but he gently pressed her shoulders, keeping her at a distance from the shower.

Cold water ran down her hair, soaking her thin clothes and extinguishing that burning heat.

"Are you more clear-headed now?" Christopher's voice was particularly clear amid the sound of water. He himself was splashed with half a body of cold water, his shirt clinging to his body.

Not disheveled, but rather exuding a desire that made people lose control.

Olivia shivered, finally regaining some rationality.

Seeing herself now with clothes in disarray, pressed against Christopher.

She gritted her teeth. "Christopher! Don't you know how to be gentle with women?"

"I'm more concerned about my own innocence."

Christopher turned off the shower, grabbed a nearby bath towel, and casually tossed it on her. "Change your clothes first."

He turned to go get her clean clothes.

Olivia was somewhat frustrated in the bathroom.

Soon, Christopher brought her clothes.

After Olivia changed and came out, still tipsy, she looked at Christopher with eyes that were still fixed on him.

Christopher poured himself a drink, his voice indifferent, "Want to go take another cold shower?"

Olivia snorted.

Doesn't know how to be gentle with women—he definitely won't have a wife in the future.

Olivia's eyes rolled, and she spoke directly, "Mr. Taylor, let's talk business."

Christopher looked at her with interest and said, "Go ahead, what do you want to talk about?"

"I'll help you fend off women and solve your family's pressure about marriage and arranged matches." Olivia looked up, her eyes bright.

"In exchange, you help me stabilize the Smith Group's cash flow, and don't let Robert bother me anymore."

She had long heard that the Taylor family was pressuring Christopher hard about marriage, and many socialites in their circle were eyeing the position of Christopher's wife. This was exactly the opportunity she could seize.

Christopher raised an eyebrow, didn't immediately agree, but instead asked, "What makes you think I need someone to fend off women?"

Olivia was about to respond to Christopher when the door to the private room was suddenly burst open.

Robert rushed in with clenched fists, Eleanor following behind him, her face still marked with undried tear stains, looking as if she had suffered a great injustice.

"Olivia! You're here fooling around with your lover again, cheating on me?"

Robert's roar exploded in the private room, but when his gaze swept over the two people, it suddenly stopped.

The private room was quiet and orderly, not the slightest bit messy. Olivia wore complete clothing, her hair neatly combed. Where was the "fooling around" he had imagined?

And why would Olivia be with Christopher?

Eleanor, behind him, also froze, a flash of panic in her eyes, which quickly steadied.

Olivia looked at the two of them, one after the other, and instantly understood most of it. She couldn't help but laugh, her tone full of mockery, "Ms. Mitchell, it seems I wasn't ruined. Are you disappointed?"

Eleanor, her thoughts exposed, turned pale, and immediately her eyes reddened, tears falling like broken beads.

She grabbed Robert's arm and sobbed, "Robert, I didn't, I was just worried about Olivia, afraid something would happen to her, that's why I told you."

"I haven't cried yet. What right do you have to cry?" Olivia frowned, finding her pretentious appearance disgusting.

"Eleanor, you deliberately drugged me, wanted to get someone to film me, and now that it didn't work, you're playing the victim? You think Robert is an idiot who will always believe you?"

Only then did Robert come to his senses, but his anger wasn't directed at Eleanor. Instead, he looked at Olivia impatiently and said, "Eleanor meant well, you're slandering her."

Eleanor sobbed, "Olivia, you've misunderstood me. How could I do such a thing? I just didn't want you to be bullied."

Olivia almost laughed in anger.

Robert really was an idiot.

She glanced at Christopher, as if saying, look at the good son you raised, stupid beyond belief, being played by a woman.

Olivia was too lazy to waste words with her and took out her phone, pulling up a recording.

It was from earlier in the bathroom, the conversation between Eleanor and those two men.

The voices in the recording were crystal clear. Eleanor's viciousness and scheming made Robert's face increasingly dark.

"Now, what do you have to say?" Olivia put away her phone and looked at Eleanor. "Eleanor, stop playing these dirty tricks, or next time, I won't let you off so easily."

Robert looked at Eleanor, then recalled the content of the recording, his heart both angry and confused.

He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but was coldly interrupted by Christopher, "Robert, apologize to Ms. Smith."

Christopher stood up, his aura instantly making it hard to breathe.

Robert looked at Christopher's cold eyes, then at the expressionless Olivia beside him, gritting his teeth. The words "I'm sorry" seemed stuck in his throat.

Why should he apologize to Olivia?

Robert pressed his lips tightly together, saying nothing.