Translator: Nox

Chapter 100

100. Why Did You Change

2024.01.08.

"Then why are you here like this?"

"Just checking if you're sleeping well."

"......"

Olivia, speechless, simply stared blankly at Yohan.

As if she might die or something...

It seemed she had quite the dramatic heartbreak. Although it wasn't Jian's husband, still.

This wasn't a sight to show her ex-husband. Suddenly, the memory of last night made her neck flush.

'......Even if I have nowhere to go... I... hate you.'

And yet, she slept so well.

Olivia couldn't help but sigh at the contradiction of being indebted to her ex-husband.

At that moment, Yohan, who had risen from his seat, abruptly reached out. His large hand touched her forehead. At the same time, he placed his hand on his own forehead.

"You have a fever."

The series of actions was very natural. As if he had always been so affectionate.

"D-Don't do this."

Olivia said, pushing Yohan's hand away.

"Don't do what?"

Her wrist was grabbed.

Yohan gazed down intently, looking into Olivia's eyes.

Her eyes were red-rimmed from how pathetically she had cried in his house because of another man.

A woman who used to cry only for him.

Yohan, unable to dare open the bedroom door, stood blankly in the darkness, waiting for the sound of crying to subside.

It wasn't until the night deepened and the air turned bluish that the Hellfire that had been burning Yohan subsided.

He felt a chill inside. The hand that had fallen from Olivia's wrist gently cupped the tip of her chin.

Yohan slowly ran his thumb over the plump skin under her eyes. He pressed down hard at the end of his fingers, as if erasing Edgar's traces.

"It hurts. Stop it."

Olivia grabbed Yohan's wrist with both hands and glared at him.

"Why did you change?"

"......"

It was a question like a deep sigh.

"Tell me. Olivia."

"......Let go."

A strange light flickered in his dull, sunken eyes. His fingertips, which had slipped from her eyes, gently caressed her bright red lips, pressed between her white teeth. Then he rubbed them with force.

Her lips, flushed with heat from the friction, grew hot. Olivia pushed against Yohan's chest and parted her tightly closed lips.

"Don't...!"

She realized something was wrong when a strange object suddenly invaded her mouth.

Olivia, startled, bit down hard on Yohan's finger. But that feeble resistance only became a stimulant.

In an instant, the man's finger pushed in deeply.

Yohan, looking down at Olivia, who was shaking her head with a flushed face, let out a heavy sigh and more relentlessly rummaged through her mouth, as if to erase Edgar's traces as well. Fiercely.

Just as Olivia, pale as a sheet, was struggling to pull off his firm wrist, a knock, like salvation, broke the suffocating silence. At the same time, the movement stopped.

Did they only kiss? Or...?

The thought made her lose focus for a moment.

If the sound of knocking on the bedroom door hadn't awakened Yohan's reason, he might have gone all the way. Crazy bastard.

As his mind cleared, two angry eyes were glaring at Yohan.

Staring into the sea-colored eyes, where angry waves were surging, Yohan slowly pulled out his finger and slowly stroked Olivia's lips.

Her lips, glistening with his saliva, sparkled in the morning sunlight. It was sensual and pleasing to the eye.

Watching Olivia wipe her lips with the back of her hand, panting, Yohan quietly ordered.

"Come in."

The butler entered through the opened bedroom door.

"A letter from Maurice, sir."

The butler politely held out the silver tray in his hand. Only then did Yohan's gaze, which had been fixed on Olivia, turn upwards to the white envelope.

Yohan opened the envelope.

"......"

After confirming the one-sided notification of his schedule, which contained nothing of substance, he raised his head to see Olivia limping away.

'...Even if I have nowhere to go... I... hate you.'

The harsh words, which she had dismissed as her last bit of pride, seemed to be her true feelings. Confirming that truth once again made his heart ache.

"Rest. Tell Rayen if you need anything."

"Call Anne for me."

Her face, already cold, was pale.

The clear morning sunlight, streaming in diagonally, made her lips, which were as red as a slash, appear even darker.

"I will."

Yohan, who had been staring at Olivia for a moment, turned around. As he strode across the bedroom, he suddenly stopped.

Olivia, who had been sighing in relief as she watched his retreating back, felt her heart freeze again. He turned around.

"......"

"Wait."

Leaving those words, Yohan left. Soon, the sound of the door closing was heard, and Olivia simply grabbed the bedpost and sank down.

Her finely grown eyelashes blinked slowly.

'Why did you change.'

Along with the heavy sound ringing in her ears, the man's outrageous actions were chaotically tangled in her consciousness and wouldn't go away.

Was she found out...?

At that moment, a knock was heard. Olivia, who had been lost in thought, was startled and reflexively turned her head. The door opened.

"Miss!"

"Anne!"

Fortunately, it was Anne.

---

Tap. Tap. The sound of a fan hitting a palm echoed rhythmically in the suite. Margaret Wellington's mood was foul from the morning.

The old woman, sitting upright at the dining table, glared at Maurice.

"Is he coming today or not?"

Maurice swallowed hard at the accusing look.

"He should be on his way now."

"What is that imprecise answer supposed to mean!"

"I apologize."

How long had she sent word? Why wasn't he coming? Twice yesterday. Once in the early hours of this morning.

Yet, Yohan Leopold was nowhere to be seen.

Maurice was so anxious that he wanted to storm into Winston Manorhouse right away.

He had repeatedly asked him to come by 8 o'clock for breakfast.

The Wellington Matriarch, who had been staring menacingly at the plates that the Leopold Hotel's head chef had ambitiously prepared, suddenly rose from her seat.

"Lead the way."

"Yes?"

Maurice stammered, flustered.

"At this point, isn't he telling me to come to him?"

"T-That's not it. Please calm down, Matriarch."

Maurice jumped up and down. He glanced back and forth between the Wellington Matriarch's complexion and the door to the suite, and continued to speak.

"Perhaps the CEO is feeling unwell, so the Carriage is not able to move quickly, which is why he is late. He should be arriving any minute now, so please just wait a little longer-"

He had to stop this situation at all costs. Maurice was about to grab onto the Matriarch's skirt and cling to her.

Fortunately, just before that terrible scene could unfold, the door to the suite opened with a knock.

"C-CEO!"

Maurice was deeply moved to see the savior entering in the light.

But Yohan coldly glared at the person who had created this troublesome situation, then met his great-grandmother's gaze.

"I'm late."

Yohan, who had greeted her with a neat and tidy attitude, stood before Margaret.

"You impudent fellow. I thought you had hurt your leg since you weren't coming, but only your leg is fine."

Margaret scanned Yohan up and down, gave him a word, and sat down.

His injured arm and the wound on his smooth forehead. And how messy would the inside of his well-tailored suit be?

She was heartbroken at the sight of her precious grandson.

The meal between the great-grandmother and Yohan was as bleak as ever.

No, was it particularly bleaker today? Maurice, who had volunteered to serve behind Yohan, who had an injured arm, felt his throat dry up at the precarious atmosphere.

"I heard that child has disappeared?"

"......"

Breaking the long silence, Margaret wiped her lips with a napkin and asked Yohan.

Yohan, who likewise picked up a napkin and tidied his mouth, replied calmly.

"That's what I heard."

Margaret stared at Yohan. Her eyes were cold.

According to the news brought by a maid, Olivia Blanchett had suddenly disappeared on the night of the closing ceremony.

Yohan took a sip of wine without any particular reaction.

'Wait.'

The moment he said those words, he remembered Olivia, who had looked at him with cold contempt.

He had treated a woman who said she didn't want to be treated that way, so it was only natural.

'...Even if I have nowhere to go... I... hate you.'

Did she leave? Finally.

Veins bulged on the back of his hand, which was gripping the slender neck of the wine glass. At that moment, his great-grandmother's cold voice awakened his consciousness.

"Did you meet her?"

It wasn't a question, but an affirmation.

Yohan raised his eyes and quietly stared at his great-grandmother, flicking the empty glass with his fingertips.

A clear sound rang out. Only then did Maurice come to his senses and fill the glass.

"Enough with the alcohol. You may leave."

Margaret, displeased with Yohan, who hadn't touched his food and had only been drinking wine, dismissed Maurice.

Then, a silence like a war zone filled the space where only the two of them remained.

The morning sunlight, streaming in through the long, large window, passed through the wine glass, casting a red light on the pure white tablecloth.

The series of actions, from holding the crystal glass between his thick, neat fingers to bringing it to his lips, was as natural as flowing water.

"Tell me. Did you meet her?"

Margaret pressed.

Margaret Wellington was not one to keep things to herself.

She had been a shy lady in her youth, but after living her whole life with a husband with many affairs, her emotions had withered like twigs, and she had become a direct person.

"Yohan."

From the beginning, that was what she was curious about, so she crossed the ocean. She must have hated seasickness. Her inner thoughts were more than predictable.

"It's my personal life."

Margaret's eyes sank eerily. She was as fierce as when she had gotten rid of her husband's many mistresses.

And that sense, which had not yet dulled, was whispering to her.

"It's a family matter."

Margaret Wellington was a person who hated illegitimate children.

A husband and mistresses and their illegitimate children that she wouldn't even feel relieved to grind up and drink... So there was no chance that Olivia and she would get along well.

"Meet a woman who is worthy of your status. Blood doesn't lie. You know that too, don't you? Those dirty pictures."

Yohan could see the fierce veins throbbing on his great-grandmother's forehead.

Even now, the newspapers were busy publishing the scandalous photos of Olivia and Edgar kissing on the green grass after the finals.

It was enough to make the stubborn old woman uncomfortable.

Yohan showed no agitation. He only felt that the wine going down his throat was very bitter.

Did she leave?

Or... is she waiting?

Yohan's nerves were becoming increasingly frayed.