An Incomplete Divorce (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 8
Diane entered the study, gave a light bow, and approached the cherrywood desk where he sat.
A faint scent of brandy lingered in the air.
The man, with the top two buttons of his collar undone and his shirt sleeves rolled up, looked flawless.
Broad shoulders, muscles perfectly filling out the soft fabric of his shirt—Johann Leopold radiated raw masculinity and bore a lineage of exceptional nobility.
He was absorbed in documents, so deeply focused that even the faint crease between his brows was mesmerizing. What a pitiful life she must have led, despite having such a magnificent husband.
Diane clicked her tongue inwardly, admired Johann’s form for a moment longer, then spoke.
“I have a report, Your Grace.”
“Go ahead.”
Without lifting his eyes from what he was reading, he replied dryly.
“The final invoice and garments ordered by Miss Olivia Blanchet have arrived.”
Only then did the man’s straight forehead turn fully toward her. The tip of his thick eyebrow lifted slightly.
Diane wished Olivia would provoke him just a little more.
She carefully placed the invoices neatly on the desk. Naturally, Johann’s gaze shifted toward them.
Every amount listed exceeded Diane’s annual salary.
Inwardly, she sneered at the wretched bastard.
Foolish girl.
Diane loathed that woman beyond measure.
Thus, Diane had painted Olivia as a shamelessly extravagant duchess who knew not her place—and it had been easy enough, given the ample opportunities.
Now, as if in reward for her efforts, they had divorced, leaving the duchess’s seat vacant. It was time to reap the fruits of her labor.
Diane, Duchess Leopold.
Ah! What a sweet fruit this would be!
“How shall we proceed?”
Diane’s voice rose slightly with anticipation.
“Handle it as usual.”
He turned his head indifferently, his ashen eyes betraying no emotion.
She wanted to tell him to send the invoices back to Olivia, but Diane bit her lower lip gently and held her tongue—after all, such a trivial sum meant nothing to him.
Truthfully, she had something else to discuss with him today.
“I was thinking of clearing out the duchess’s bedroom.”
A dense silence fell. The breeze from the window felt unseasonably cool for spring.
“No.”
His gaze, which had been returning to the papers, now fixed on Diane.
“Later.”
Johann’s eyes briefly flickered over the stacked invoices before scanning the contract again. His expression, glimpsed for just a moment, appeared disinterested and utterly indifferent.
Diane, who longed to erase every trace of that contemptible woman as soon as possible, clenched her interlaced fingers and replied obediently.
“Understood.”
After all, an unoccupied room could be tidied whenever.
For now, winning this man’s heart was her priority.
After the duchess’s former secretary left, the study sank into silence. The slanting sunlight boldly touched the invoices that had arrived uninvited.
Johann raised his head and quietly stared at them.
A faint smirk crossed his lips as he regarded the remnants left behind by his audacious wife who had demanded divorce. It had certainly not been a carefully planned, deliberate separation.
Apparently, it had been an impulsive divorce.
Otherwise, there would be no explanation for these invoices.
His ex-wife’s behavior had become utterly unpredictable from a certain point onward.
Olivia Blanchet and Edgar Lancaster Lancelot.
According to today’s report, the two had met—purely by chance, of course.
Johann briefly looked away from the papers, took a cigar into his mouth, and drew a deep breath. The smoke slowly diffused into the air. He reached out and refilled his empty glass with brandy.
“Please grant me a divorce.”
Amid the ripe, fruity aroma and the cigar smoke rising like mist, his wife’s clear voice echoed in his mind. The evening glow streaming through the side window shimmered in Johann’s eyes.
He had thought she had been living quietly and without incident all this time. What utter, arrogant delusion.
Johann set down his glass, tapped off the ash from his cigar, and picked up the invoice.
“…….”
His eyes, which had been lazily skimming the invoice from Gabrielle Boutique, suddenly froze at a certain line.
His narrowed gaze grew cold and still.
The date in the order column felt strangely unsettling.
March 27th…
Johann fell into thought.
That was the day the Prime Minister had resigned. His sudden announcement had thrown all of Rhondos into an uproar. The royal court urgently summoned its members to appoint a royalist leader to the vacant post—and Johann, as a royal, had been called to attend.
The meeting, which began at noon, lasted until dusk, when a message from Great Hill arrived.
Johann slowly began recalling the events of that day.
So March 27th was…
the day Olivia had thrown herself into the lake.
He slowly closed his eyes.
Only then did doubt arise.
Why?
The cigar burned down. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t fathom his wife’s psychology.
Why?
Was it normal for someone planning suicide to order six dresses?
No.
That was an extremely unnatural act.
Then why?
Johann slowly opened his eyes, took a slow drag of cigar smoke, and rubbed his dry eyelids after exhaling a long plume.
The first time Olivia had self-harmed was on her birthday.
“Am I important, or is your promise more important?”
When he’d told her he couldn’t join her for dinner due to an unavoidable prior engagement, she’d returned to her room with tears in her eyes and slit her wrist.
The second time had been similar—on a day in August, when summer roses bloomed in full, just before her birthday, as he was leaving for a two-week business trip.
She was obsessively fixated on her birthday and needed Johann. He never understood her and simply ignored her to avoid pointless arguments.
And yet this woman, who had suddenly attempted suicide at an odd time, miraculously woke up and demanded a divorce…
Something simply didn’t add up.
What change of heart could have occurred between ordering those dresses and leaping into the lake?
Johann now found himself genuinely curious.
Could it be connected to Edgar?
Otherwise, there’d be no reason for her to run straight to him the moment she left his side.
After silently studying the invoices for a while, Johann stubbed out his cigar and rang the call bell. Maurice entered shortly after.
“You called for me?”
“Investigate Olivia’s whereabouts on the day of the lake incident.”
“Sir?”
Startled by the abrupt order, Maurice fumbled to pull out his notebook.
“Everyone she met, every letter she received, every step she took—leave nothing out.”
Johann spoke calmly, his eyes heavy with fatigue.
“Everything.”
His pale face turned toward the window. Beyond it, the familiar landscape was bathed in sunset. Far off, in the heart of the dense forest, the lake shimmered an unusually vivid red in the evening light.
[This is the timeline separator]Under the clear morning sun, the sound of a light green ball crossing the net echoed across the hotel grounds.
“It feels so satisfying—I keep imagining it’s my husband’s face.”
Though she’d lost the first set to Olivia, Elaine’s expression remained bright.
During a brief break, the two sat on a bench in the shade and sipped cool soda water. Olivia wrinkled her nose at the sharp tang of lemon.
“How long have you played tennis?”
Elaine asked, wiping the sweat from her brow.
It was common knowledge that Olivia Blanchet had been confined to the attic until she turned sixteen. That such a woman possessed near-professional tennis skills was certainly suspicious.
Elaine had asked out of pure curiosity, but Olivia felt as if she’d been struck straight in the chest.
“After I got married… I often played with my husband.”
It was such an obvious lie that Olivia avoided Elaine’s gaze and fiddled with the rim of her clear glass.
Unaware of this, Elaine simply took her for modest.
Indeed, rumors and gossip were never reliable. And if this was the level she’d reached just from “often playing” with her husband, then she clearly had a natural talent for tennis.
“Why don’t you enter the Dumblyn tournament? You’d have no rivals.”
Every book about the Britte Kingdom invariably mentioned the Dumblyn Tennis Tournament.
Ever since a prince of the Dumblyn royal family had hosted a match at his private tennis club, the tournament had become a prestigious tradition spanning forty years.
“I’ll consider it once my alimony runs out.”
Olivia replied, retying her loosened hair.
“Grandmother probably won’t allow it anyway.”
Elaine laughed playfully.
“Let’s play up to the third set.”
“Alright.”
They rose and stepped back onto the court. Olivia’s high ponytail swayed against her nape. It was early morning, with a crisp spring breeze—perfect weather for tennis.
It was Olivia’s turn to serve.
[This is the timeline separator]A vigorous shout rang out from early morning. It wasn’t the short, intense kiai of competitive men, yet it still disturbed sleep.
Hah!
Edgar grimaced as he buried his face deeper into the plush pillow.
Hah! Hah! Haah!
A faint, intrusive noise slipped into the dim bedroom and tickled Edgar’s ears.
Who on earth…
Lazy nobles never moved their bodies so energetically at dawn. And as for hotel guests—most were still recovering from a night at the casino.
Waaah!
An inhuman shriek followed by cheerful laughter invaded his space once again.
Damn it.
Having given up on sleep, Edgar sighed and cursed under his breath as he sat up.
His head pounded from last night’s drinking.
Loosely wrapping a robe around himself, he walked over to the offending window. Yanking open the heavy curtains, light poured in. After blinking slowly for a moment with his eyes shut, Edgar finally opened them.
Behind the ivy-covered red wall, across the wide expanse of emerald-green lawn, a woman bounced up and down like a resilient rubber ball on the tennis court.
It was Olivia Blanchet—the woman he’d been seeing frequently these days.
Male lead Asks for a Divorce Every Day
It’s not often you come across a plot like this in the female-dominant genre — make sure to check it out!
This is a novel I’m planning to reread as well.
The male lead is strong, skilled in martial arts, and not the usual fragile type you often see in matriarchal novels.
Meanwhile, the female lead is a scientist—rational and logical. Even when she falls for the male lead, she doesn’t let her emotions cloud her decisions.
If you push through the first few chapters, you’ll gradually find the story really intriguing.
It has a mix of mystery, detective elements, and romance.
The author’s writing style is like crafting a puzzle—except they deliberately leave out a few pieces, making it hard to predict what happens next, yet keeping you hooked.
In the end, everything will come together and be explained.
One-sentence summary: Wife, stop playing with beakers and look at me!
In a laboratory accident, research scientist Zhu Wansheng accidentally travels to a matriarchal world. The original owner of the body is an eighteen-year-old only daughter of a wealthy rouge merchant, already married with a handsome young man.
Zhu Wansheng grins: Nice! She always said she was heaven’s favorite granddaughter. After a life of toil in her previous life, she can enjoy blessings in this one.
However, her joy lasts no more than three seconds as bad news arrives: the original owner’s family is about to go bankrupt, and her husband wants a divorce.
Even worse, she’s stuck with a research system full of restrictions.
Zhu Wansheng: ? Is this the destiny of a research dog?
——
Faced with this mess, Zhu Wansheng pours herself a bowl of wine to drown her sorrows. In her drunken haze, her husband arrives.
His figure is imposing, holding a long sword, with a dignified air that captivates Zhu Wansheng.
Gu Yingqing, however, looks at the alcohol-reeking Zhu Wansheng with undisguised disgust and coldly asks, “Divorce or not?” The intoxicated Zhu Wansheng mumbles vaguely, “I think… it’s not… it’s not… impossible!”
——
The next day, after sobering up, Zhu Wansheng is full of energy, rolling up her sleeves ready to make a big move. As for yesterday? She has no memory of it.
Zhu Wansheng is ambitious; a research dog fears nothing!
Upgrading rouge, extracting fragrances, producing perfumes, researching lipsticks… all shall bow to the power of modern technology!
The original owner’s dying rouge shop is revitalized. Her mother is pleased and with a wave of her hand, passes on the family business to her. As she takes control and her experimental results gain popularity, it’s the pinnacle of her life…
——
But there are always those who can’t stand to see her doing well. Jealousy, scheming, assassination attempts – they want nothing less than her life.
The person who has always kept his distance from her suddenly holds her tightly in his arms, eyes full of concern.
She is unharmed, but he falls into a pool of blood…
Zhu Wansheng feels guilty, “I can grant you one wish.”
Gu Yingqing tentatively circles his arms around her, carefully resting his head in the crook of her neck, pleading softly, “I regret it. Can we not divorce?”
Zhu Wansheng: ? When did I agree to a divorce?
[Small Theater]
The newly developed rouge is beautifully packaged, and Zhu Wansheng is eager to try it.
Gu Yingqing suddenly appears: “My lady, may I apply it for you?”
Cool fingertips lightly brush her lips. His Adam’s apple bobs as he leans in for a light bite.
Zhu Wansheng: ?
Gu Yingqing: It smells so good, I wanted to taste it…
On a warm spring day, Zhu Wansheng tries a new perfume: “Spring Night.” Gu Yingqing corners her against a wall.
Warm breath lingers on her neck.
“My lady, from now on, may I test the fragrances for you?”
[Humorous female scientist vs scheming live-in son-in-law male lead]
[Touch the gear icon in the bottom right corner of the screen to move to the next chapter if you want.]
This story deserves more hype. People should know more about this.
Sounds like someone is planning to make a misunderstanding between our couple
Here we go again, poor Olivia always getting hurt by men