An Incomplete Divorce - Chapter 8
Diane entered the office, gave a light bow, and approached the red cherry wood desk where he was seated.
There was a faint scent of brandy in the air.
The man, with two buttons of his collar undone and his shirt sleeves rolled up, looked incredibly handsome.
Broad shoulders, muscles perfectly filling out the softly draped shirt. Johan Leopold not only exuded masculine charm, but also possessed a very noble lineage.
He was looking at some documents, so focused that even the faint wrinkle between his brows was captivating. To live such a pitiful life with such a wonderful husband.
Inwardly clicking her tongue, Diane admired Johan’s appearance for a moment before speaking.
“I have something to report, Your Grace.”
“Go ahead.”
He said dryly, without taking his eyes off what he was looking at.
“The final invoice and dresses that Miss Olivia Blanchet ordered have arrived.”
Only then did the man’s smooth forehead turn to face her. The ends of his dark eyebrows rose slightly.
Diane wanted to make this man even angrier at Olivia.
She carefully placed the invoices neatly on the desk. Johan’s gaze naturally shifted to them.
Every single one had numbers larger than Diane’s annual salary.
Inwardly, she mocked the vulgar bastard child.
Stupid thing.
Diane despised that girl.
So Diane had made Olivia into an extravagant duchess who didn’t know her place. There were plenty of opportunities, so it was a very easy thing to do.
Finally, as if rewarding her efforts so far, the two had divorced, and the position of duchess was vacant. Now it was time to reap the rewards.
Duchess Diane Leopold.
Ah! What a sweet fruit this was!
“How should we handle this?”
Diane’s voice was slightly flushed.
“Do as you’ve been doing.”
The man turned his head indifferently, but no emotion could be read in his ashen eyes.
Diane wanted to tell him to send the invoices back to Olivia, but she bit her slightly curled lower lip and held back. This bit of money was nothing to him.
In fact, there was something else she wanted to say to him today.
“I was thinking of cleaning out the Duchess’s bedroom.”
A dense silence fell. The wind blowing in from the window felt cool for a spring breeze.
“No.”
The gaze that had been directed at the documents returned to Diane.
“Later.”
Johan’s eyes briefly touched the pile of invoices again before skimming over the contract. At a glance, the Duke’s eyes seemed to lose interest, becoming emotionlessly relaxed.
Diane, who wanted to erase all traces of that unworthy girl as soon as possible, answered submissively while tightening her interlocked hands.
“Understood.”
After all, there would be many days to clean out the room without an owner in the future.
For now, capturing this man’s heart was the priority.
After the wife’s secretary left, the office was enveloped in silence. The setting sunlight boldly touched the invoices that had flown into a place without an owner.
Johan quietly raised his head to gaze at them.
He couldn’t help but laugh at the things left behind by his impudent wife who had demanded a divorce. It hadn’t been a divorce carried out meticulously, without error.
It seems it was quite an impulsive divorce.
Otherwise, there was no way to explain these invoices.
At some point, the actions of the woman who had been his wife became unpredictable.
Olivia Blanchet and Edgar Lancaster Lancelot.
According to today’s report, the two had met. By chance, of course.
Johan, briefly averting his gaze from them, put a cigar in his mouth. The smoke he had deeply inhaled slowly spread into the air. He reached out to fill an empty glass with brandy.
‘Please divorce me.’
Between the aroma of ripe fruit wine and the cigar smoke rising like mist, his wife’s clear voice echoed. The sunset light flowing in through the side window reflected in Johan’s eyes.
He had thought she was behaving well without any issues all this time. It was a perfectly arrogant misconception.
Johan picked up an invoice with the hand that had put down the wine glass while tapping off the ash from the end of his cigar.
“……”
Johan’s gaze, which had been indifferently scanning the invoice from Gabriel Boutique, stopped as if nailed to a certain point.
His narrowed eyes were cold and calm.
The number written in the order date column was strangely irritating.
March 27th…
Johan fell into thought.
That was the day the Prime Minister had tendered his resignation. The sudden declaration of intent to resign had caused an uproar throughout Londos. The royal family had urgently summoned the royal members to place the leader of the royalist faction in the vacant position, and Johan, as a member of the royal family, had been called to that meeting.
The meeting, which had started at noon, continued until dusk, when a message arrived from Great Hill.
Johan began to recall the events of that day one by one.
So, March 27th was…
The day Olivia had thrown herself into the lake.
He slowly closed his eyes.
Only then did questions arise.
Why.
The cigar burned down. No matter how much he thought about it, he couldn’t understand his wife’s psychology.
Why.
Is it normal for someone planning to commit suicide to order six dresses?
No.
That was extremely unnatural behavior.
Then why.
Johan slowly opened his closed eyes and took a puff of cigar smoke. As he exhaled the smoke slowly, he rubbed his dry eye corners.
The first day Olivia had harmed herself was on her birthday.
‘Am I important, or is the appointment important?’
When he said he couldn’t have dinner together due to an unavoidable prior engagement, she returned to the bedroom with tears welling up in her eyes and cut her wrist.
The second time, the situation was similar. It was on a day in August when summer roses were in full bloom, approaching her birthday, the day he was leaving for a two-week scheduled business trip.
She was particularly obsessed with birthdays and needed Johan. He didn’t understand his wife at all and avoided meaningless arguments by appropriately ignoring her.
Then, for that woman to attempt suicide at an odd time for no reason, luckily wake up, and then demand a divorce…
Somehow, it didn’t add up.
What change of heart had occurred between ordering the dresses and jumping into the lake?
Johan was now belatedly curious.
Could it have something to do with Edgar?
Otherwise, there was no reason for her to run to him as soon as she left his side.
After quietly looking at the invoice for a while, Johan stubbed out his cigar and rang the call bell. A moment later, Morris entered.
“You called, sir?”
“Investigate Olivia’s movements on the day of the lake incident. That day.”
“Pardon?”
Taken aback by the sudden order, Morris belatedly fumbled to take out his notebook.
“The people Olivia met. Letters that came to her. Every single one of her movements without exception.”
With eyes reflecting deep fatigue, Johan spoke calmly.
“Everything.”
His sharp face turned towards the window. Beyond the window, the sunset was falling over the familiar scenery. Far away, in the middle of the dense forest, the lake tinted by the sunset seemed to sparkle with an unusually red light today.
***
Under the clear morning sunlight, the sound of a lime-green ball going back and forth over the net echoed across the hotel grounds.
“Thinking it’s my husband’s face makes me feel so much better.”
Although she had lost the first set to Olivia, Elaine’s expression was bright.
Taking a short break, the two sat on a bench under the shade of a tree, drinking cool soda water. Olivia wrinkled her nose at the crisp lemon scent.
“When did you start playing tennis?”
Elaine asked, wiping the sweat from her forehead.
It was a well-known fact that Olivia Blanchet had been confined to an attic until she was sixteen. It was suspicious that such a woman’s tennis skills were of a high level.
Elaine had asked out of pure curiosity, but Olivia felt as if she had been shot right in the center of her chest.
“After getting 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 the transparent glass.
Unaware of this, Elaine simply thought her modest.
Indeed, rumors and gossip magazines were not to be trusted. Moreover, to achieve this level of skill just by playing often. She clearly had a natural talent for tennis.
“Why don’t you enter the Dumblin Tournament? You’d have no competition.”
One of the things invariably introduced in every book related to the British Kingdom was the Dumblin Tennis Tournament.
It was a traditional tournament that had continued for forty years since a prince of the Dumblin royal family first held a competition at his own tennis club.
“I’ll think about it when I run out of alimony.”
Olivia said, retying her disheveled hair.
“Grandmother won’t allow it.”
Elaine laughed playfully.
“Let’s go to three sets.”
“Alright.”
The two stood up and took their positions on the court. Olivia’s hair, tied up high in a single ponytail, swayed at the nape of her neck. With a cool spring breeze blowing, it was the perfect time for playing tennis in the early morning.
It was Olivia’s turn to serve.
***
From early morning, shouts could be heard. Unlike the short, sharp shouts of men filled with competitive spirit, these didn’t disturb one’s sleep.
Hat!
Edgar’s brow, deeply buried in a soft pillow, furrowed as much as it could.
Hat! Hat! Haat!
The strange noise that had squeezed into the dim bedroom tickled Edgar’s ears.
Who on earth.
Lazy nobles never moved their bodies enthusiastically in the early morning. Not to mention hotel guests, most of whom spent their nights in the casino.
Uwaah!
An inhuman shriek and cheerful laughter once again invaded his space.
Damn it.
Edgar, giving up on sleep, got up with a sigh and a curse.
His head felt like it was splitting from the alcohol he had drunk until dawn.
Wearing a loosely draped robe, he walked to the window in question. Light poured in as he pulled back the thick curtains. Edgar closed his eyes for a moment, blinking slowly, then slowly opened them.
Beyond the red wall covered in ivy, on the tennis court spread with bright green grass, a woman bounced up like an elastic rubber ball.
It was that woman he had been seeing often lately, Olivia Blanchet.
*
Save yourself from story hunger — the novel below will blow your mind!
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.]
YOU MAY ALSO LIKE
