Chapter 55

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 55

Chapter Title: A Man Without Conscience

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I thought he'd grab my chin roughly and demand, It's not you, is it? I figured he'd press me fiercely, asking who the hell I really was.

"When did it start."

A metallic click echoed. The man picked up a cigarette from the silver case on the bedside table as he asked.

Olivia slowly opened her tightly shut eyes. The chill in his gaze made her shiver from head to toe.

"With Edgar."

Relief that she hadn't been fully exposed was short-lived.

"Tell me."

He dangled the cigarette loosely from his lips as he interrogated her. His downcast eyes seemed indifferent, yet not quite.

"Before the divorce?"

"No. You know better than anyone that couldn't be."

"Then, when."

His expression didn't change, but a cold edge crept into his voice.

"Since we became strangers. Satisfied?"

Olivia met his gaze without flinching, refusing to back down. Johann stared down at her impassively.

"Edgar... won't do."

What business was it of his who she saw? Her ex-husband, now engaged to someone else, had no right to interfere.

Strength gathered in her bright blue eyes as she stared straight at Johann.

"I'll decide that. Not you."

Her pale face set stubbornly. Johann didn't like that obstinacy one bit.

He withdrew the hand he'd tucked into his pocket and leaned forward.

Olivia flinched back in alarm, as if encountering a molester. He was only reaching for the matches on the table.

'Hold me.'

His wife's pleading voice, seductive and clinging, tickled his ear.

She'd been in provocative nightclothes that revealed everything, no different from now, but the woman inside felt utterly alien, like someone else entirely.

The man, no good to get tangled with, was enormously tall.

Olivia, startled, turned her head away evasively. In her sightline came the large hand fumbling for the matchbox on the table.

"!"

Following the man's neatly aligned fingers upward, atop the straight wrist bone gleamed the round coal-black dial. The word 'Patek' sparkled in the light.

It was Olivia Blanchett's birthday gift. Incredibly.

"Wh-what are you doing with that?"

Shocked, Olivia even stuttered.

"It's a gift I received."

Johann said it casually. His brazenness left her speechless. Gifts weren't all equal.

"Give it back."

"Why."

The man's face, reclining in the chair, was sharp and piercing. Baffled by his attitude, Olivia blinked her blue eyes.

"It's rude to your fiancée."

She half-expected him to scoff that the gift-giver knew that. Of course, he hadn't foreseen the divorce, so he had an excuse.

"No need for that between us."

Johann said flatly.

Manners.

He had no such courtesy for a woman who harbored feelings for another man while marrying him.

Thus, he felt no hesitation facing those sparkling lake-blue eyes.

Oblivious to this, Olivia was simply bewildered. What kind of man was he?

"Then you must have a conscience."

"Hardly."

He paused in striking the match and replied.

He shoved the matchstick back into the box and tossed it onto the table with a thunk.

"Give it here."

Everything Olivia knew about Johann Leopold came from her memories.

She hadn't delved into every detail, but she felt confirmed that divorcing him was the right choice.

She wanted nothing more to do with such a rude, shameless man.

She wanted the watch back and him out of her room, fast.

"It's my money anyway, Olivia."

Johann gazed steadily at the woman who had been his wife.

Her transformation into someone unrecognizable drew his eyes more now. The woman who used to cling and weep was now plotting escape—it was refreshingly novel.

She who'd jealously wished to become the watch on his wrist.

The woman who'd babbled of eternal love like time itself—now, of all times.

So he was even less inclined to give it up. No desire at all.

"I'll pay for it."

"I must have given you too much alimony."

It was his money anyway. His wife seemed to have momentarily forgotten that.

"You said you loved me."

And her past love for him.

Olivia's defiant face paled.

Her long, dense lashes trembled faintly.

Beneath them, her clear eyes shone piercingly blue. Had they always been like this? So adorably beautiful.

Her bold defiance—unfamiliar, neither averting her gaze nor sniffling—subtly pricked at his nerves.

Memories surfaced. One day before their wedding, his wife whispering love without meeting his eyes, her face flushed beet red.

"You said you loved me, Olivia."

His heavy voice made her chest heave.

His sharpened gaze bored into her eyes like it would devour them. Holding that stare was burdensome.

But she didn't look away. For she was not the real Olivia Blanchett.

"Not anymore..."

She no longer loved him. That was all.

No—she had never loved him to begin with. To her, this man was merely someone she'd met twice.

"So give me back the watch."

As if it were trivial, as if the blazing emotions that had once consumed her were nothing, she said coolly, letting it all pass indifferently.

It was no different from Johann impassively exhaling cigar smoke.

His chest ached. Not just from the whiskey.

Johann, who could control his thoughts without distraction, was struggling lately.

Especially when the subject was Olivia—or Blanchett.

Johann opened his closed eyes.

"So."

Johann, listening to Morris's report, drew deeply on his cigar.

A cool late-spring night breeze scattered the thin smoke mercilessly.

"That letter was indeed written by Marquis Lancelot in a similar situation before."

Johann's sharply honed face looked weary. He slowly stroked his jaw with the fingers loosely holding the cigar.

"The mastermind is Princess Annblin."

"The coachman insists it was the madam, but circumstances point that way."

"The witness who saw Olivia."

"Vanished right after the commotion. Still."

Johann's gaze fell on the blankly standing Morris.

Needless to say, it wasn't kindly, making Morris feel utterly useless and indignant.

It was already 2 a.m.

Morris had been running himself ragged interrogating the coachman and rooting out hotel insiders for questioning. A little credit would be nice.

"I need to see the princess."

Johann murmured, tilting the bottle over his empty glass. His dry eyes were detached.

Kidnapping, confinement, defamation, obstruction of business. Wasn't that enough?

As recompense for ruining four years of meticulous effort and investment at its peak.

Johann drained the glass in one gulp.

'Not anymore...'

'So give me back the watch.'

Olivia's voice echoed in his ears.

Those heartless words touched off his fuse. With the fuse lit, explosion was inevitable.

Beyond the dim window loomed the Lancelot Hotel, brilliantly lit from top to bottom.

Johann put the cigar to his lips.

The first night at Leopold Hotel wore on, with no one able to sleep.

"I'm disappointed, Ann."

Crown Prince Alex's gaze was fierce. Even for his cherished sister, he couldn't side with her this time.

Why touch him, of all people.

"Johann. Duke Johann Leopold. That's who you touched."

"I told you it has nothing to do with me."

Annblin's voice was utterly serene.

Her elegant motion of lightly lifting the teacup handle was unchanged from usual. She resembled a white peony in a vase.

"Ann."

"I don't know why everyone treats me like this. You have to believe me, brother. Right?"

Her eyes, slowly lifting to meet Alex's, glistened damply.

They brimmed with grievance, as if deeply wronged.

Alex sighed.

Having lost their mother young, their father and he had raised her solely with affection—this was the Annblin they got.

"Tell me the truth. Then I can help."

"It wasn't me. Why would you think I'd do something so vile?"

Annblin gazed at her brother with hurt eyes.

She knew this expression weakened him. Anger faded from Alex's eyes.

"Last chance. You're sure it's got nothing to do with you?"

"I know nothing about it."

Annblin replied calmly, shifting her gaze beyond the transparent glass. The soaring fountain's spray looked refreshing.

It was this time four years ago. In the fresh green of early summer, when she and Edgar were lovers.

Thinking back now, it was over something trivial that they'd quarreled fiercely.

Furious, she'd retreated to the southern villa, but Edgar had brought her back in his own way.

'Escort her back courteously.'

The carriage to the villa had abruptly turned around because of the letter Edgar sent the coachman.

She hadn't foreseen using that handwritten note—once treasured like a jewel—this way, but denial was simple.

She'd already secured a culprit to confess to stealing it and plotting the deed. Annblin had nothing to fear.

The massive bribe ensured her name wouldn't leak anywhere.

Only infuriating that she'd ended up a suspect with no gains.

Who'd have thought he'd put surveillance on his divorced wife.

The duke's unforeseen action was the fatal miscalculation.

"It's time for my practice."

As if done talking, Annblin rose.

"Your opponent is Johann. And Edgar too."

Alex grew frustrated gazing into his sister's inscrutable eyes. Rubbing his brow, he continued.

"We can only hope they'll be as merciful as I am."

If they meant to protect their sister, they'd hold the Britt royal family accountable.

To cover Annblin's misdeed, Alex might have to accept absurd terms.

"I hope you'll act wisely."

Swallowing a deep sigh, Alex rose to leave.

As the crown prince departed, Annblin glared fiercely beyond the glass.

To fail even at that one thing.

Annblin began biting her nail tips.

Her future now hinged on the loyalty of her sworn maid.