The Divorced Military Queen Awakens (by Sadie Baxter) novel Chapter 521

Chapter 521 Shadows Of The Past

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The confession wedged in Weston’s chest like a clenched fist, so he pivoted to safer ground. “What exactly is going on with that Sylas Seymour?”

She set her fork down for a breath. “He came with my stepmother,” she said. “Years ago, I had him locked up. He got out early, we crossed paths, and he decided to come at me again.”

Either way, Weston could confirm the facts with a five–minute search, so she saw no reason to hide anything.

Weston’s brows climbed in disbelief. “Then what did he go to prison for?”

Laura’s hand paused mid–air, fork suspended like punctuation in a sentence that had turned sour. “Attempted assault,” she answered, voice flat as slate.

With the answer delivered, she bent over the remaining pasta, choosing the mundane rhythm of chewing over conversation.

Across from her, Weston froze, simply staring, breath trapped halfway between inhale and exhale.

“Wait. Attempted assault? Who did he try to hurt?” Weston finally managed, the question brittle with disbelief.

Laura set the empty plate aside, twisted the cap off a cola bottle, and drank deeply. “Me.”

The fizz bit at her tongue, a sharp reminder that the worst was already behind her.

She was not a helpless pushover anymore.

“He targeted me that night. I filed the charges and made sure he ended up behind bars,” Laura said, her tone devoid of triumph, simply stating a fact.

Weston’s lips pressed into a bloodless line; cords of vein stood stark across the back of his hand.

Regret slammed into him. If only he had not let the man off so lightly at the police station–he should have broken far more than the man’s pride.

“When did this happen? If I’d known back then-” His voice cracked around the unsaid promise.

Laura let out a low, razor–thin laugh. “Oh? And if you had known, you would have swooped in like some gallant hero?”

“Absolutely,” Weston shot back, the word leaping out before thought could temper it.

She lifted her chin, studying him. Memories bled in whether she liked it or not. Only days after their breakup, Sylas had cornered her. Desperate, she had swallowed her pride and rushed to his place for help, but a uniformed servant barred the iron gate.

“Mr. Weston says you no longer matter,” the servant announced, sympathy nowhere in sight, before turning back to the glittering party inside.

Inside, music spilled from crystal chandeliers, laughter clinking like glass. Outside, Laura stood in the dark, winter wind knifing through her thin coat until even her bones felt made of ice.

Days later on campus, she spotted Weston striding down the corridor. She hurried forward, lips forming a plea, but he spared her only a cool glance, slipped by her shoulder, and carried on laughing with the friends at his side.

1/2

6:10 pm DB

Chapter 521 Shadows Of The Past

+10 Free Coins

in that single heartbeat, she realized they lived in different universes; he had never liked her, never even noticed her, and she had never once occupied his gaze.

Weston leaned forward, sleeve whispering over the plastic tabletop. “What, you still don’t believe a word I say?”

Laura answered with a faint, distracted smile, as though half her soul had stepped outside the room.

The Weston she remembered overlapped the man before her; shapes matched, colors shifted, some essential note now played in a lower key.

Laura drained the last of her cola, bubbles stinging the back of her throat. “I believe you,” she murmured. “But it belongs to the past, and belief changes nothing.”

She pushed her chair back, metal feet screeching across the diner floor. “I’m full. I need rest. Carry on eating if you like, Mr. Windore.”

Weston rose at once, sliding a bill beneath his untouched plate. “I’ll drive you.”

Laura’s gaze drifted to the untouched pasta and the sweating glass he had ordered for appearance’s sake.

Figures. Money straight into the trash.

Moments later, they were enclosed in his sedan, neon ribbons sliding across the windshield as he steered toward her apartment complex.

At the curb, he caught her wrist, his grip gentle yet unyielding. “I’ll see to Sylas Seymour,” he said. “He won’t disturb you again.”

“Whatever,” she replied, voice airy, shoulders light.

If Weston wants to deal with Sylas, good, but still, trusting myself will always matter most.

That lesson had been branded into her skin long ago.

Weston released her but did not step back. “Our arrangement still stands. So you’ll continue to be my girlfriend,” he said. “As for what you said, I’ll do my best.”

His best?

She understood that was as far as he would bend.

Since he had yielded a step, she would meet him halfway; open war would serve neither of them.

She only prayed he left Harvey in peace.

“Fine.” She plucked the keys from his fingers. With a casual wave, she added, “Bye.”

Weston watched her disappear inside; when a single light flickered on upstairs, he finally drove away.

The next morning, he instructed his staff to assemble every scrap of Sylas‘ old case.

One date on the docket froze him mid–breath.

The first hearing had been set a mere three months after their breakup.