An Incomplete Divorce - Chapter 38

It was then that the end of the Goddess Bridge, tinged with the setting sun, was drawing near.

The sight of a woman walking with quick steps caught Johan’s attention from behind.

Her glossy chestnut hair, just long enough to cover her nape, fluttered in the river breeze as she moved.

“Olivia.”

The name he unconsciously uttered in a low voice broke the silence.

A momentary wrinkle appeared between the brows of the princess, who had been maintaining a consistently expressionless face, but Johan didn’t notice.

Johan, who had been staring out the window until the carriage passed by the woman, couldn’t help but chuckle.

It was a woman who couldn’t possibly be here. Perhaps the photograph of the woman sent by the spy had been deeply imprinted in his mind.

‘Love me.’

The voice of the woman who had been his wife echoed in his ears like an auditory hallucination once again.

One day, before entering the dining room, Morris had tipped him off that tomorrow was Madam’s birthday. Johan, seated, asked formally.

‘A gift. Tell me if there’s anything you want.’

With a smile that somehow evoked sadness, his wife had said.

‘Love me.’

He couldn’t understand.

What value could there be in a temporary emotion that would disappear and eventually end?

Johan finally turned his gaze away from the woman hurriedly walking down the street. His eyes met those of the princess, who was sitting still like a cold porcelain doll, looking straight ahead.

The space flooded with the sunset at its peak was a suffocating blood red.

“If it was unpleasant, I apologize.”

Johan apologized politely.

The princess of Kranz said nothing.

Even in the burning red light, the princess’s cold eyes only held a slight trace of dissatisfaction.

Even that quickly faded to indifference, and she soon turned towards the opposite window.

Johan also turned his head away. Checking his wristwatch out of habit, he fixed his meaningless gaze on the distant Rondos Palace.

A quiet woman wasn’t bad.

At least this princess wouldn’t preach about love.

That alone made it not a bad deal for Johan.

It was time to focus on the new negotiations with the Crown Prince.

The things he would gain on the condition of becoming a knight on the chessboard once again.

The currency issuance rights and government bond issuance rights of the International Bank, which the Leopold family had entered the acquisition race for. And its elevation to the status of a central bank.

Wouldn’t that make it worth it? Considering he’d become trash for forcing an engagement less than three months after his divorce.

Of course, this was all contingent on how much the Leopold family would acquire.

As it had always been, it was destined to fall into Johan Leopold’s hands with one hundred percent certainty.

Johan decided to think only about the financial empire he would build.

The carriage glided through the golden gates of the palace. At last, it arrived in front of the guest house.

“What an imbecile!”

Russell Dixon’s angry roar, his face contorted with rage, echoed loudly. Seeing this, his secretary shook his head as if to say, ‘Here we go again.’

“Tell him to come here right now! Right this instant!!!”

Did I spend those pitch-black nights sleepless to create such a thing?

Russell’s black mustache quivered.

At the ear-splitting bellow, the secretary dashed out of the icy boardroom and started running towards where Russell Junior was.

The sound of something being thrown and shattering against the wall was ominous.

The secretary fully understood Russell’s feelings.

There’s a limit to family disgrace. If it were his own son, he’d wring his neck so he couldn’t hold a racket for the rest of his life.

Even while catching his breath, he clicked his tongue in exasperation as he ran at full speed. The atmosphere at Court 12, where he arrived, was quite convivial.

Carried on the breeze, a pleasant baritone laugh could be heard.

“Hahaha. Good. Very good, Miss Blanchet.”

The man laughing foolishly, showing his even teeth, was none other than Russell Junior.

“Now, let’s try to hit it a bit deeper. Focus on your backhand.”

With his broad shoulders tensed, he looked like a rooster puffing up its chest in front of a hen.

“Yes, Coach.”

The woman smiled as brightly as the morning sun.

Who could resist such a smile? The secretary shook his head as he approached behind Russell Junior. Sensing his presence, Russell Junior, who had just served with a ‘pang!’, said irritably:

“Tell him I’m busy.”

“I don’t think that will work. He’s very angry.”

“Then all the more reason not to go.”

“But—”

“Your swing is good now. Maintain your arm angle.”

Russell Junior diligently returned Olivia’s balls while offering advice that seemed of little use.

Who was supposed to be teaching whom, and what?

What a pathetic…

It was impossible not to curse.

He should be begging for forgiveness. There’s a limit to stupidity, and one should only put on airs in front of the right people.

Disappointed by this attitude that made his concern about potential injuries seem futile, the secretary turned away, resigned to whatever might happen.

The shadows were growing shorter. The fountain’s water jets shot up refreshingly, announcing eleven o’clock. The white foam, breaking like sand grains, shimmered in rainbow colors under the sunlight.

“Let’s call it a day.”

Out of breath, Olivia stopped in the center of the court, took a moment to catch her breath, and then looked up.

“Thank you again for today, Coach.”

Olivia said with a smile to Russell Junior as he handed her a towel.

“I’ll do some more individual practice.”

“M-more, you say?”

Surprised, Russell Junior gaped, blinking his large eyes.

“Thanks to you, Coach, I think my stamina has improved a bit. Since there’s still time left.”

Olivia smiled as she wiped her cheeks with the towel. Puffed up, Russell Junior brushed back the hair that had fallen onto his forehead.

Even though he knew he was being used, he felt satisfied.

Thanks to Olivia’s consideration, he had shed his stigma. Now, ladies were busy praising Russell Junior’s chivalry.

‘How could you do that to such a woman? You’re so kind.’
‘How can you defeat a lady with strength? Hahaha.’

For him, it was a symbiotic relationship with nothing to lose.

“Anne.”

At Olivia’s call, the maid hurried over to the opposite court. She began to take things out of the bag on her shoulder and arrange them in a line on the grass.

Russell Junior, sitting under a parasol, was about to take a sip of lemon water with ice when he tilted his head.

Surely not.

After setting up the last wooden post, the maid returned to her place. Olivia tapped her toes with the racket head, then took her stance.

Russell Junior, who had downed the lemon water in one gulp, put a cigarette in his mouth. Just as he was about to strike a match and light the end of the cigarette.

The woman’s blue eyes, firmly holding the lime-green ball with her fingertips, rapidly deepened.

Her long eyes narrowed, flashing fiercely like a bird of prey spotting its prey while soaring through the sky.

The ball went up towards the sky. Simultaneously, Olivia’s body arched like a bow and sprang up.

Pang! The center of the racket hit the falling ball precisely. The ball, flying at high speed, struck the very first wooden post without the slightest error and rolled away.

Good heavens!

Russell Junior, who had been watching the scene blankly, suddenly jumped up and shouted.

Ouch, hot! The loosely held cigarette fell onto his thigh, leaving a black scorch mark on his white pants.

Anne, who had been silently watching Olivia, pinched her palm to hold back her laughter. Despite his rough and rugged appearance, the young master had many unexpectedly cute aspects.

That day’s practice only ended after Olivia had knocked down all ten wooden posts.

“Aren’t you hungry? Let’s go have lunch.”

Russell Junior said in a deep voice.

After practice, he would have lunch with Olivia. It was a gesture of goodwill born purely from his heart.

An hour and thirty minutes from Riverside 3rd Avenue to here. Even if she had breakfast early, it would have been at seven. It was time to be hungry even if one had been idling.

For her sake, who had been adamantly refusing, Russell Junior put forth the pretext of an athlete’s physical management. And that excuse worked.

After Russell Junior confirmed the availability of deck seating, the manager guided them outside. It was a place with a refreshingly open view towards the sea.

“This is… so wonderful.”

Olivia exclaimed. Russell Junior swelled with pride at her reaction. Like a gentleman, he pulled out her chair, and after Olivia was seated, he sat down across from her.

“The seafood dishes here are no less than Grand Blue. Let me know if you need recommendations.”

“Please do.”

“Sea bass fillet.”

“Sounds good.”

While Russell Junior was placing the order, Olivia turned her head towards the sea. The white tablecloth fluttered gently in the sea breeze.

Sleek boats practicing rowing passed by, their oars moving in sync with the commands. Time flowed as calmly as the sea.

After the staff left and before the food arrived, Russell Junior began talking about the play of Princess Anblyn, the record holder for most victories.

A moment later, an amber glass filled with whiskey and a tall glass of carbonated water were placed on the table.

“The coach of Her Royal Highness is also a skilled player who won three consecutive times. I once had a match with him. Unfortunately, I had injured my wrist the day before.”

“Oh my. That player was really lucky then.”

“Well. That’s right.”

Russell Junior shrugged his shoulders. Excited, he began to recount his experiences from the tournaments he had participated in. Of course, exaggerated and dramatized.

“Once, I met Edgar in the semi-finals.”

“Really?”

Olivia leaned forward slightly, her hands clasped together. Her eyes widened.

Up close, the surface of her blue eyes sparkled like the sea surface visible right in front of them. Russell Junior’s shoulders tensed even more.

“It was the final set. And at deuce, no less.”

“Oh! Goodness. It must have been neck and neck.”

The woman moved even closer. Seeing her holding her breath, ears perked up as if listening to the legendary exploits of a hero, focused solely on him, his heart began to beat strangely.

“…”

“And then? What happened then, Coach?”

Olivia imagined Edgar on the green court. A man jumping high into the sky, delivering a powerful serve.