Chapter 22

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 22

Chapter Title: God is Unfair

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“You shameless wretch, not even knowing that. How dare you insult my son?”

He retracted his wildly swung hand and yanked off his cravat, huffing in rage.

Olivia clutched her swollen cheek and glared at the earl.

“Since when did you learn to talk back like that? Did you do the same in front of your husband? Is that why you got chased out, spouting off so boldly?”

Earl Blanchett, who had been shouting, suddenly turned his body. He yelled at the servants standing behind him.

“Beat that one.”

The tip of his black cane pointed at none other than Anne.

Anne was crouched on the floor, face down, her hands cradling her head buried against her chest as she trembled. Shocked by the sight, Olivia shot a fierce look at the earl and said,

“Don’t do that to Anne.”

“I heard you got a hefty alimony. Hand it over.”

“Earl!”

“Do you want your maid to die?”

Olivia glared at Earl Blanchett. His overbearing gaze grew increasingly savage.

“I’m fine. Don’t give in. Miss— Agh!”

The earl’s cane swung toward Anne’s head, and the frightened girl let out a groan as she clutched her head. Before it could strike her body, Olivia swiftly snatched the cane.

“Money. I’ll give it to you, so don’t touch her.”

As she swallowed her burning rage, Olivia’s eyes welled up with clear tears.

Earl Blanchett peered into those bright blue eyes.

Elena.

‘I’m definitely having this child. I have to.’

Her porcelain-white skin made them stand out even more. The daughter with thick, lustrous brown hair who had run to him, flinging herself into his arms, declaring her endless love. That very fact swallowed him in even greater betrayal and fury.

How did I raise you?

‘I’m sorry, Father. But it’s his child. Please let me have it!’

Getting pregnant with your friend’s husband and dragging the family into the gutter!

As his eyes met Olivia’s, Earl Blanchett’s mind rewound twenty years.

“Seize her.”

His shrill voice cracked. The focus vanished from his crazed eyes.

Two burly men grabbed Olivia, pinning her so she couldn’t move.

His bony hand, like a winter tree branch, roughly seized her hair.

Anne rushed over screaming and stood in front of Olivia with her body half-curled protectively.

The earl’s brutal fist sent Anne tumbling powerlessly. As usual, the savage curses began alongside the beating.

Earl Blanchett often confronted his once-beloved daughter, Elena, in this very way.

Olivia. Olivia.

Even after the divorce, that name endlessly circled Johann, grating on his nerves.

Olivia Blanchett everywhere he went.

Today’s newspaper featured her prominently in one corner, as always.

If the scandal with her lover had broken in Rondos, he would have quashed it long ago. The fallout from across the sea was utterly exhausting.

“Now, just one look here, please?”

The photographer directed Johann’s bored gaze toward the camera lens.

Johann, in a black suit with a blue tie, relaxed his lips and stared straight ahead. The sunlight streaming through the window made his neatly combed blond hair gleam brightly.

“Yes. Perfect. Excellent. I’ll take it.”

The photographer couldn’t hide his excitement before the flawless subject. He vanished behind the black cloth, counted to three, and flash—the light burst. Johann’s vision went dark.

‘I love you, Johann.’

At that instant, Olivia’s voice echoed in his mind, and Johann furrowed his brow.

Damn it.

With the photo of her and Edgar added in, his displeasure soared beyond words. Johann closed his eyes briefly. The reporter swallowed hard at the sight.

What doesn’t he like?

Sweat beaded in his clenched fist around the pen.

A man with animalistic instincts who succeeded in every venture, an unparalleled figure. Noble Rondos bloodline. And handsome to boot.

God is unfair.

That was reporter Harrison’s conclusion. He wanted to cast a vote that it was exceedingly unjust.

Johann slowly opened his eyes. His royal gray eyes carried a faint red tinge, as if from lack of sleep.

He leaned back languidly.

“Let’s begin.”

Johann announced the start of the interview in a low voice.

“Yes.”

Ahem. Reporter Harrison cleared his parched throat from waiting and shifted his gaze to the question sheet.

“I hear the Leopold Hotel opening in Litton will be the largest in the Britt Kingdom. Is this part of an offensive strategy targeting Lancelot Company?”

Johann’s impassive gaze turned to the reporter. Harrison tensed and focused intently.

“You’d be better off changing the question.”

Crossing his long legs, Johann stated calmly.

It felt like hitting a wall right from the first question.

“Ah... Yes. Then... Let’s try again...”

The reporter’s mind stuttered at the sudden demand.

What didn’t he like? Was it the name Lancelot? After some self-questioning, he glanced at Johann’s expression and spoke.

“Is the Litton Hotel project part of innovative management aligned with global trends...?”

The reporter emphasized “global” and “innovative” clearly.

Johann nodded briefly in affirmation.

The reporter inwardly sighed in relief and moved to the next question.

“Will you attend the opening ceremony personally?”

“Probably.”

“I understand the former Duchess Leopold is currently staying in Litton...”

Not losing his journalistic duty despite Johann’s chilling gaze, the reporter trailed off but fumbled on with his lips.

“How do you view the scandal reports of her affair with Marquis Edgar Langcaster Lancelot...?”

To be honest, the Daily Economy editor had zero interest in whether Johann’s hotel opened or closed.

With slumping sales lately, slipping in stimulating gossip was the only breakthrough for an economic paper.

“Your name?”

Johann, leaning obliquely on the armrest and stroking his smooth jaw, asked the reporter.

His voice was low and deliberate. It carried an oppressive pressure beyond mere curiosity about a name.

Why is he asking my name...?

Reporter Harrison suddenly experienced the bizarre sensation of forgetting his own name. At the same time, a strong instinct told him he shouldn’t say it.

“...H-Harrison Carpenter.”

“Why do you think I agreed to this interview?”

Harrison’s heart pounded. No wonder the commute that morning felt unusually beautiful. A foreboding sense that it might be his last washed over him. He moistened his dry lips and fidgeted.

“To promote the Leopold Hotel...”

“Then stick to questions worthy of that.”

Johann snapped coldly, adjusting his cuff to check his watch.

Only fifteen minutes had passed. It was tediously boring and irritating. His frustration arrowed sharply at Morris, standing with hands behind his back. Morris quickly turned his head toward the window.

Once the interview ended and the reporters left, Morris approached and took the suit jacket Johann handed him.

“From now on, you do it.”

A prickly glare flew his way.

“Why have a face like a sculpture if not for this? Bear with it a few more times. The opening is right around the corner. When they take photos, think of the camera as a stack of bills and smile a bit.”

Johann pulled down his tie as he left the reception room for his office.

“Word from Litton.”

Morris followed, reporting.

“The earl met with Miss Blanchett.”

His footsteps halted abruptly in the long corridor, then resumed striding forward. Knowing what the report implied, Johann’s face showed no change.

Morris set the silver tray with the telegram before Johann, seated at his office desk.

Johann scanned the telegram held between two fingers.

At the end, it sought approval to intervene with the surveillance target in emergencies. It hinted at violence against Olivia last night.

He finally went to her.

Johann picked up a cigar with the hand that set down the letter.

Even so, what did it have to do with him now?

“Pull them out.”

“Pardon?”

Johann decided to withdraw surveillance on his ex-wife. The rampant articles about Olivia were plenty.

“But Earl Blanchett—”

As if he’d kill his own granddaughter.

And even if he did, it was none of Johann’s concern.

“So what?”

At Johann’s icy tone, Morris shut his mumbling mouth.

True enough. She’s no longer his. What right does he have?

Olivia Blanchett was no longer under Johann’s protection.

The Litton branch of International Bank was quite large even by Britt Kingdom standards. Olivia visited right after opening to avoid the crowds.

In the vast hall lined with dozens of desks, Olivia and Anne looked around, unsure where to go.

Thinking it drew more attention, Olivia pulled her wide-brimmed bonnet low and headed to the nearest counter.

“An honor to have you visit.”

The clerk wasn’t thrilled by the customer barging in without time for even a coffee. So diligent. He looked up, stared blankly at Olivia’s face, and asked perfunctorily,

“How may I assist you?”

Today’s first customer looked shabby.

Some house maid who’d fallen out of favor and gotten into a brawl with her mistress, perhaps. Bruises and wounds covered her face.

Even under heavy makeup, the unnatural application only drew more eyes.

No matter how you looked, she didn’t seem like a prime client from the top-tier bank for nobles.

They demanded even their agents dress sharply. So this woman wasn’t running an errand for nobility.

Under the clerk’s scrutinizing gaze, Olivia unwittingly bowed her head and said,

“I’d like to apply for a payment freeze on the account in my name.”