The Divorced Military Queen Awakens (by Sadie Baxter) novel Chapter 537

Chapter 537 Losing Something Dear

Chapter 537 Losing Something Dear

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The sensation was terrifying–like misplacing an irreplaceable key and knowing every frantic search would come up empty.

Laura turned to leave, but Weston lunged, catching her elbow with sudden desperation.

She looked up, eyes steady. “Is there something else, Mr. Windore?”

“…” The word scraped out, unformed.

What is it I want? The thought thundered, but no shape followed, only a longing too sprawling for language.

Feeling his hesitation, she slipped free. “If there’s nothing else, I’m leaving.”

She did not look back, heels clicking a steady farewell toward the foyer.

Behind them, Harlan’s lips curled in amused appreciation, and he sauntered after Laura like a shadow that had finally chosen its mistress.

Outside the villa, Laura spun to face him. “Why are you tailing me, Harlan?”

“What, should I leave you to wander alone?” He chuckled. “I brought you here, so of course I’ll see you home.”

“Weston is still inside. Weren’t you terrified he’d do something reckless tonight?” she asked.

“Problem solved,” Harlan said with a shrug. “You stopped my uncle, so he won’t dirty his own hands.”

He did not add that the Rowe family was already doomed. Weston excelled at orchestrating others to act for him; his retaliation would simply arrive through different hands.

“Still,” Harlan pressed, eyes alight, “don’t you want revenge?”

“Revenge? On Ms. Rowe?” Laura raised an eyebrow.

“She kept you from meeting my uncle. And I figure you went to him after the breakup because of Sylas Seymour, right?”

Laura blinked. “You knew?”

“I’m not that stupid.” Harlan tipped his head in a modest nod. He had read the Seymour file; once the pieces lined up, the picture was obvious.

Laura exhaled a small laugh. “I’m not interested in revenge. Life is good now–why waste energy clawing at the past? I share no mortal grudge with Ms. Rowe. As I told Weston, even without her interference, he probably wouldn’t have agreed to see me that day.”

Harlan angled his head, the lamp–light skating across the sharp line of his jaw as one eyebrow lifted in quiet challenge. “So, have you truly stopped caring, or is that just what you want the world to believe?”

Laura let a breath slide out, the faintest crease settling between her brows. “It isn’t that I feel nothing. Being toyed with so maliciously will always leave a bruise. But it’s over now, and I refuse to let yesterday’s thorns catch my hem.”

She fixed her gaze on the road ahead, as if the future itself waited there, beckoning her on with open palms.

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8:43 pm M P

Chapter 537 Losing Something Dear

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Following the line of her sight, Harlan glanced back at the villa. A flicker of reluctant sympathy crossed his eyes–pity for Weston, who, with impeccable timing, had fallen just as she had ceased to feel.

Back when her heart had burned hot, Weston had shrugged off the heat. Now the fire inside her lay cold, yet he stood barefoot in the ashes, suddenly aching for warmth.

Harlan cleared his throat. “Come on. I’ll drive you home.”

“No need. I’ll grab a cab. I still have to swing by the factory tonight.” She waved him off with easy grace. Turning on her heel, Laura strode to the curb, flagged down a taxi, and disappeared behind its sun–scarred door before he could argue.

Harlan retraced his steps to the lounge. The crowd was gone; only Weston and Gus remained–a half–lit tableau of fatigue and unspoken turmoil.

Weston reclined in a leather chair, a bottle tilted to the sky. Amber liquor cascaded past his lips like a silent confession.

Harlan’s voice cut the hush. “Where did everyone go?”

Gus straightened, answering with practiced neutrality. “Mr. Windore asked me to clear the villa.”

Reading the room, Harlan motioned lightly. Gus dipped his head and vanished, leaving nephew and uncle alone amid the lingering smell of spirits.

“What’s this, Uncle Weston–trying to drown the ache one swallow at a time?”

Weston huffed a brittle laugh. “Nothing so tragic. I merely felt like a drink or two.”

Harlan leaned forward, eyes steady. “If you care about Laura this much, why not pursue her again until she can’t help falling for you?”

Weston recoiled as though the word itself stung. “Care? You’re joking.”

Harlan’s tone sharpened. “Then why engineer that whole scene tonight? You nearly drew blood just to uncover who asked the maid to turn her away all those years ago.”

Without Laura’s timely restraint, the evening might have ended in sirens instead of silence.

Weston set the bottle down with a dull knock. “I only refuse to be slandered or misunderstood, that’s all.”

A crooked smile tugged at Harlan’s mouth. “Since when have you ever cared about public opinion? Face it. You’re in love, and you can’t stand the thought of her misunderstanding you.”

In love?

The word hung in the air. Weston stared, the color draining from his face as the possibility took violent root.

Harlan’s voice softened, almost cruel in its precision. “Imagine, just for a moment, she gives her smile to someone else. She leans close, laughs at another man’s whisper. Picture their wedding–vows you never spoke, a lifetime you forfeited. Would the sky not dim? Would tomorrow still taste sweet?”

He lifted Weston’s forgotten glass, tossed back the liquor, and let the burn settle in his chest.

These were not idle hypotheticals; they were memories etched into his own marrow.

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8:43 pm M P

Chapter 537 Losing Something Dear

In pushing Weston, he was also mourning the chances he himself had squandered.

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Harlan had once stood ahead of Trent, ahead of Julius–yet every step he took had been a step too slow. Opportunity, like sand, had sifted through his clenched fingers.

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