An Incomplete Divorce (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 9
Haat!
With a ragged breath, the woman reached her arm toward the sky. Time seemed to stand still—only she, Olivia Blanchet, appeared to move.
Bathed in the clear morning sunlight, the woman leapt upward.
Edgar let out a soft sigh.
Her blouse had slipped up past her waist, revealing bare skin. At the same time, she swung her racket and sent the ball flying without hesitation.
The woman landed lightly and let out a cheer.
Leaning casually against the windowsill, Edgar gazed down at her, lost in thought.
Her fresh cheeks were flushed the color of roses blooming in spring. He couldn’t tear his eyes away.
The way she casually twirled her tennis racket looked remarkably practiced. Her hair, tied neatly into a single ponytail, rippled softly with each movement.
Before serving, she had a habit of tapping the toe of her shoe lightly with her racket, then bouncing the ball precisely three times on the ground.
The little wildcat growled once more.
Like a predator leaping toward its prey, she sprang up again toward the ball she’d just tossed into the air.
“Ha-ha!”
Her excited, breathy giggle, spilling from her blushing face, seemed to carry all the way to him.
There was strength and effortless grace in the motion with which she cleanly sent her opponent’s shot over the net. She moved with the supple, sleek elegance of a black panther.
Yet whenever her strength faltered, she switched to a two-handed backhand—accompanied by a fierce cry that had once shattered his peaceful slumber.
Edgar chuckled.
In tennis, considered the gentleman’s sport, it was proper etiquette for neither spectators nor players to make noise. Especially ladies, who were expected to maintain grace even while returning the ball. None would ever launch themselves about the court like that.
She was a woman fearsomely driven by her desire to win.
Edgar’s gaze deepened.
He’d never known Johann’s wife possessed such talent.
Britte was a nation obsessed with roses and tennis. The annual Ritten Flower Festival and the Dumblin Tennis Championship, held without fail each year, were prime examples of this obsession.
The newly completed Dumblin Stadium had been commissioned to the Lancelot house.
Adjacent to the Dumblin Club, the stadium boasted 19 tournament-standard grass courts, 22 practice grass courts, 8 clay courts, and 5 indoor courts—an undeniably world-class scale.
It also featured a museum, restaurant, café, and souvenir shop.
With a sense of mourning for the tennis-obsessed prince, Edgar intended to transform the prince’s territory of Dumblin into a sacred site for the sport.
And now, two months away, would come the fruits of his five years of devoted effort.
Olivia Blanchet.
Edgar’s eyes grew deeper as he watched the woman move across the grass.
She would be the perfect promotional figure for this grand launch—especially in the women’s singles category, which had become problematic due to Princess Annabel.
The illegitimate daughter abandoned by Johann Leopold, a beautiful divorcée branded as proof of infidelity, and the rightful owner of the Dumblin trophy.
There could be no more dramatic story. Her unconventional playing style would surely provide ample spectacle as well.
The only question was whether she herself had any interest in the Dumblin Championship.
Edgar’s lips curved gently.
The friendly match between the two ladies ended quickly. The victor’s joyful smile shimmered in the morning light.
Feeling quite satisfied, Edgar turned to leave. He ran a hand through his tousled hair, walked over to the side table, and rang the bell. Gerald soon entered.
[This is the timeline separator]“I’ll freshen up quickly and join you. I’ll just have scrambled eggs with mushrooms and cheese, and coffee.”
“I’ll get it ready.”
At Elaine’s request, Olivia smiled and replied. They had decided to share a late breakfast in Olivia’s room.
After parting ways with Elaine at the elevator, Olivia’s face remained bright with a smile. Moving her body so vigorously that she was drenched in sweat for the first time in ages left her feeling wonderfully light.
“Wasn’t it boring?”
“No, not at all. It was fun.”
Anne answered with a smile.
Though Olivia had told Elaine she occasionally played with Johann, Anne likely knew that wasn’t true. Yet she hadn’t asked a single question.
Anne had been watching over Olivia since she was six years old. Perhaps she faintly sensed it—the self hidden beneath Olivia’s guise.
“Is there… something you wanted to say?”
“Hm? Oh, no.”
Olivia, walking while glancing at Anne’s profile, shook her head.
“Let’s play together next time. I’ll teach you.”
“That’s impossible. They’d chase us out before we even set foot on the court.”
Still shaking her head, Anne arrived at the room and pulled the key from her handbag, inserting it into the lock.
“…Miss… Did I forget to lock the door?”
“What is it?”
“The door…”
Anne’s expression hardened.
“…It’s open.”
Olivia and Anne stared at each other, eyes wide.
Anne swallowed hard, then pressed her ear tightly against the door.
Someone was inside.
‘What should we do?’
Anne asked Olivia with a glance.
“Let’s go in.”
“No, miss! What if it’s a thief? I’ll go get someone.”
Anne, visibly tense, whispered just loud enough for Olivia to hear.
“If it’s a foolish thief who didn’t even lock the door properly, the two of us can easily handle it, Anne.”
Besides, the room was far too exposed for thievery—only a fool would attempt it at this hour.
“Still…”
Anne hesitated.
Olivia—Han Ji-an—was skilled in hand-to-hand combat and marksmanship. She might not overpower much larger men, but with a weapon in hand, the situation changed entirely.
Olivia gripped her racket like a bamboo sword, and Anne raised her parasol like a long blade.
After steadying their breaths, the two exchanged a determined look.
One.
Two.
On “three,” they flung the door open.
“You’re back already.”
“…”
The maid-clad woman stopped what she was doing and bowed her head. It was Olivia and Anne who were taken aback. Olivia recovered first and asked Anne,
“Did you hang the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign?”
“No, miss.”
Slowly, they both turned toward the woman.
“Lord Lancelot sent me. My name is Marie, and I’ve been assigned to attend to you during your stay. I look forward to serving you.”
The woman bowed deeply once more.
Olivia swept her gaze slowly over the immaculately tidied room. The scattered clothes, slippers, bedding, and dressing table—all hastily left behind when they rushed out—had been neatly put away.
Displeasure at having her private space violated outweighed any gratitude.
Olivia set her racket on the table and stepped toward the woman. This time, her keen eyes closely examined the maid.
“Is this service provided to all guests?”
“Only to VIP guests.”
The tall, slender woman with deep brown hair and eyes replied in a polite yet stiff tone.
Olivia’s eyes widened slightly in surprise.
“This is my first time here.”
“Lord Lancelot determines who qualifies as VIP.”
“I see. Then I’m truly grateful.”
The woman showed no hint of nervousness—no sign of being caught doing something suspicious or hiding anything.
Still, Olivia disliked the idea of a stranger coming and going in her space.
“Could you relay a message to him?”
“Of course.”
“Please tell him I sincerely appreciate his kind consideration, but I must politely decline.”
For the first time, a flicker of emotion appeared in the maid’s eyes as she met Olivia’s gaze.
“Have I done something wrong? Or is the room not to your satisfaction?”
“It’s perfect—flawless, in fact.”
“Then why… May I ask the reason?”
“I simply wish to rest undisturbed.”
“…”
After a brief pause, the woman bowed her head.
“Understood. Then, please rest well.”
The maid retreated carefully without turning her back.
Anne immediately went to the dressing room to check the hidden compartment at the bottom of her trunk—the International Bank certificates, checkbook, identification, passport—all were still in place. Seeing this, Olivia chuckled.
“Anne, she was sent personally by the hotel manager. They wouldn’t do something like that.”
“Better safe than sorry.”
Anne’s motto was to always test even a stone bridge before crossing. She probably would’ve done the same even if the King of Britte himself had sent the maid.
“Alright. I’m hungry, Anne. Order me the same as Miss Elaine.”
Olivia smiled.
“Yes, miss.”
Anne went downstairs to place the room service order, and Olivia headed to the bathroom.
After a quick shower, Olivia emerged wrapped in a flannel robe. Standing by the window with a view of the charming Ritten town, she gently patted her damp hair dry with a towel when a knock sounded at the door.
‘She’s early.’
Olivia crossed the room and opened the door with a bright smile.
“Come on in—…?”
Her eyes instantly widened in shock. It wasn’t Elaine.
Why… here?
Edgar Lancaster Lancelot looked down at Olivia with intrigued eyes.
[This is the timeline separator]The woman stood in a robe.
The thin flannel fabric revealed the delicate yet voluptuous lines of her body in a breathless manner.
Between the overlapping front panels, her plump, fair bosom peeked through, and her wet, dark brown hair draped over it—sharply heightening his senses.
To Edgar, women were nothing more—and nothing less—than objects to satisfy desire.
That was precisely why he never troubled himself over companions meant only to warm his bed for a night.
Yet now, driven by a similar yearning—or perhaps a subtly different urge—he couldn’t tear his eyes from Olivia Blanchet’s body.
A flush rose to her cheeks, quickly spreading to her forehead and neck, before—bang!—the door slammed shut.
“W-wait! Just hold on a moment, please!”
Her voice, leaving behind only a faint trace of rose fragrance, came urgently from the other side of the door.
The corner of Edgar’s lips curled upward ever so slightly.
Turns Out He’s Been Secretly in Love with Me
One-line summary: He acts like he doesn’t like her but is actually playing hard to get.
Synopsis:
Xu Muzhou like her. He has liked her for a very long time, and through repeated schemes, he finally closed the distance with her.
But this is still far from enough.
He wants to be the one who stands out among her many suitors, to fight for her attention, and to make her take the initiative to pursue him.
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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