The Divorced Military Queen Awakens (by Sadie Baxter) novel Chapter 346

Her voice trembled with worry. “What is Julius really after?”

Weston answered with practiced calm. “We’ll know tomorrow. He said she would call.”

Still, the knot between Laura’s brows refused to loosen.

Weston’s tone softened. “It’s late. Let me drive you home.”

They stepped into the cool night outside the station, sirens ghosting through city haze. Weston extended his palm. “Key to your car.”

She asked, “You drove here yourself?”

He nodded once. “I did.”

“What about your car, then?”

“I’ll have my family driver collect it later.”

Laura shrugged, remembering belatedly that old-line families like the Windores traveled with conveniences that nouveau riches like her still found extravagant.

She flipped the keys into his waiting hand with practiced ease.

Together they climbed into the sedan, the night swallowing the metallic click of the doors.

Laura tilted her head, lashes flicking upward like shutters snapping open. “How well do you and Julius really get along?”

Weston reclined a fraction, straightening the cuff of his tailored jacket as if considering the exact measure of truth he wished to release. “We have some history, nothing I would call deep,” he answered, each word clipped yet unfailingly courteous.

“If Julius truly hurts Quinn and Harlan decides to cross him, where will your loyalties land?” she pressed.

Weston flicked her a sideways look so brief it felt like the glint of a blade. “You already know the answer,” he said, voice cool as morning steel.

“Seriously? Harlan is your own blood. You would leave him hanging?” Her disbelief cracked through the air.

“Choosing not to help Harlan does not mean I would aid Julius,” Weston replied, folding his hands like a judge about to render a ruling. “The Whitethorn legacy is vast. If the Windore family confronts it head-on, we would be devoured.”

Yet Weston already knew where the final line was drawn. Should Harlan ever find himself in open war with Julius, the Windore banners would unfurl at his side, no matter the cost.

Laura curled her lower lip, amused in that way people are when a stereotype proves true. “Typical lawyer. Every outcome is calculated to the last decimal.”

If Weston could cold-shoulder his own nephew, she thought, begging for his help would only earn her humiliation.

Weston broke the silence, his tone sliding in like a knife between ribs. “If Julius truly harms Quinn, do you want my hand in the matter?”

“You and I both know you won’t,” Laura answered, steady as stone. “So I won’t waste time asking. After all these years, I learned the hard way that leaning on others is riskier than leaning on my own backbone.”

“Laura, you never even asked,” Weston said, sounding almost casual.

The words jolted her. What does he mean?

“You mean to tell me that if I open my mouth, you’ll square off against Julius for Quinn’s sake?” A bitter laugh slid out. “Come on. Even I’m not that naïve.”

Could it be possible?

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