Chapter 65 Oshey

Chapter 65 Oshey
The next morning, the moment Olivia opened her eyes, she was struck by a breathtaking sight.

The man lying beside her looked unreal.

His skin was smooth like ivory, flawless and clean, as if carved carefully by an artist. His deep-set eyes were closed, long lashes resting quietly against his cheeks, and his high nose bridge cast a faint shadow across his face. His thin lips were slightly pursed, perfectly shaped, looking… dangerously kissable.

He was like a sculpture that had stepped out of a museum and into her bed.

Olivia stared, completely captivated.

She didn’t even realize she had stopped breathing.

Perhaps sensing her intense gaze, Herbert’s eyelashes fluttered. His eyes opened slowly, dark and clear, instantly stealing her breath again.

In that moment, the cold perfection of the “sculpture” seemed to come alive.

“Does it feel nice?” he asked calmly, amusement flickering in his eyes.

“W-what?” Olivia stammered, her brain short-circuiting.

Herbert glanced downward.

Only then did Olivia follow his gaze.

Her hand was resting flat on his chest.

Not only that—her fingers twitched.

Olivia: !!!

The firm warmth beneath her fingertips finally registered. Her face turned red all at once, heat rushing up her neck as she yanked her hand back like she’d been burned, completely unable to meet his eyes.

Herbert let out a low chuckle.

Olivia shifted awkwardly, trying to find something—anything—to distract herself, when her eyes landed on his neck.

There was a faint mark there.

It looked suspiciously like… a bite.

She reached out instinctively and touched it lightly. “Uncle, did something bite you?”

“Yes,” Herbert replied calmly. “A little cat with the last name Rivers.”

“What?”

Olivia froze.

Her mind replayed blurry fragments from the night before. Drinking. Laughing. Biting—

Her face turned even redder.

“I… I bit you?” she asked weakly.

Feeling guilty, she gently brushed her fingers over the mark. “Uncle, I’m sorry. Does it hurt?”

Herbert’s breath stalled for a split second.

He had been about to say it didn’t hurt.

But then he changed his mind.

“Olivia,” he said quietly, “I want a good morning kiss.”

“Huh?”

Olivia blinked in confusion. How did the topic suddenly jump to that?

Would… would a kiss really make it stop hurting?

Thinking seriously about it, she leaned forward and carefully placed a soft, gentle kiss on his lips.

It was light and innocent, like a butterfly landing.

She pulled back and asked earnestly, “Does it not hurt anymore, Uncle?”

“…It seems like it’s not enough.”

Before Olivia could react, Herbert placed a hand behind her head and deepened the kiss.

Her heart slammed wildly against her chest.

The warmth, the closeness, the way his breath wrapped around her—Olivia quickly began to feel dizzy. She kicked her legs unconsciously under the covers, trying to pull away.

Someone caught her ankle.

“Olivia, don’t move.”

His voice was low and husky, restrained with effort.

Feeling the heat against her leg, Olivia instantly understood what she had touched. Her neck flushed red, and she froze completely, not daring to move another inch.

“Uncle…” she whispered.

Her damp lashes fluttered, her eyes shy and flustered, cheeks burning pink. The sight alone made Herbert’s breath hitch.

He was a man, after all.

And she was lying in his arms like this.

But now wasn’t the time.

Afraid of scaring her, Herbert tightened his embrace and buried his face briefly in her hair, inhaling her scent as he forced himself to calm down.

“Just a little longer,” he murmured. “Okay?”

After a moment, he finally released her.

“Go wash up,” he said gently.

Olivia nodded quickly and slipped out of bed.

She was wearing his white shirt, the hem barely reaching her thighs, revealing her long, pale legs. Herbert turned his head away at once, refusing to look any longer.

She changed into the clothes he had prepared and went downstairs with him for breakfast.

From afar, Olivia spotted Bobby and waved excitedly. “Bobby!”

The puppy took one look at her… and bolted.

“Uncle, what’s wrong with Bobby?” Olivia asked, baffled.

Herbert paused. Then said carefully, “Bobby… might be afraid you’ll steal his bed again.”

“Huh?”

Her expression clearly said that’s impossible.

Seeing her reaction, Herbert explained calmly, “Last night you insisted you were a cat. When I tried to take you to bed, you ran into Bobby’s room and took his spot.”

Olivia was horrified.

She rubbed her face and asked weakly, “Uncle… what else did I do last night?”

They moved into the living room. The staff greeted them politely and left.

Herbert pointed to a corner. “You squatted there and told me you were a mushroom. You said you’d die if you left the soil.”

Olivia: …

“And then?”

“Then you decided you were a cat. You climbed onto the coffee table and started pushing everything off. When I stopped you from pushing the teacups, you accused me of having another cat outside.”

Herbert smiled helplessly. “After that, you tried to open the window to become a stray cat. When your legs went numb, you finally jumped into my arms.”

Olivia lowered her head, wishing the floor would swallow her whole.

She might as well move to another planet.

“Uncle…” she murmured. “I’m really sorry for causing so much trouble.”

“It’s okay,” Herbert said, patting her head. “It was… actually pretty cute.”

Her face turned even redder.

…

The scandal involving Esther and Zachary had been clarified, but the damage to the Landon family’s stock couldn’t be undone overnight. Esther decided to hold a press conference to formally address everything.

After breakfast, Olivia accompanied her.

Under flashing cameras, Esther—dressed in a moon-white gown—answered questions with calm confidence.

“Did you try to use your influence to pressure Zachary?” a reporter asked maliciously.

Olivia noticed the logo on the microphone.

Entertainment Tonight.

Esther laughed coldly. “Zachary is my ex-boyfriend. I dumped him for cheating. Any media spreading rumors about me abusing power will hear from the Landon family’s lawyers. Next question.”

The reporter fell silent.

Another jumped in. “Will the Landon family protect Zachary because of your past relationship?”

“Protect him?” Esther scoffed. “It’s a miracle I haven’t broken his legs. His contract will be terminated, and the penalty fee will be paid by him alone.”

The press conference ended cleanly.

As they walked out together, Olivia looked at Esther and felt a mix of relief and heartache.

People really did grow through pain.

Just then, a disheveled man stumbled toward them—hair messy, clothes wrinkled, eyes bloodshot.

Olivia instinctively tensed.

The man lifted his head.

It was Zachary.