The Divorced Military Queen Awakens (by Sadie Baxter) novel Chapter 565

Chapter 565: Toxic Retaliation

Neither party was prepared to back down so easily; each carried a hidden agenda that demanded to be expressed before they would consider leaving.

From the hallway, Sylvia’s sharp, piercing voice echoed forcefully back into the room. “Laura Wentworth, you need to head straight to the station right now and confess that you lied! Sylas never attacked or blackmailed you—tell them to set him free!”

Laura turned slowly, her steps measured and deliberate as she made her way back to her desk. Her tone was icy, precise, cutting through the tension like a knife. “So that’s the real reason you showed up—this pathetic excuse for a man. I won’t take back a single word. I’ll stand by everything I said in court. Sylas Seymour can face the consequences of his own actions.”

Sylvia’s voice escalated into a frantic, desperate scream that seemed to shake the very doorframe. “How can you be so heartless? He’s your brother! Years ago, he was only teasing you, but you accused him of rape. Now you’re slandering him with charges of robbery and assault. He’s been rotting behind bars because of you—how much longer will you keep him there?”

Laura’s gaze sharpened, her eyes narrowing into cold, hard slits that glittered with icy resolve. “He put himself in prison. Instead of yelling at me, maybe you should find your son a competent lawyer. And don’t pretend you’re my mother—he’s not my brother. How absurd.”

“You—” Sylvia began, but her fury choked off the rest of her words. Her glare spoke volumes on its own.

Laura waved a dismissive hand. “Well? Move them.”

At that command, the guards tightened their hold and began dragging Caxton and Sylvia toward the waiting elevators.

Sylvia managed to wrench herself free for a brief moment, lungs heaving as she spat out one final, venomous threat. “Mark my words, Laura Wentworth! If my son suffers, you’ll suffer right alongside him!”

With a sudden motion, she pulled a small bottle from her pocket, tore off the cap, and hurled its clear contents toward Laura in a shimmering, deadly arc.

Reflexes kicked in—Laura stumbled back, but not quickly enough. Quinn, who was standing closest, lunged with astonishing speed, yanking Laura aside just in time. Quinn’s own momentum carried her in the opposite direction, sending her crashing toward the furniture.

Quinn moved so swiftly that the nearby bodyguards barely had a moment to react. They stood frozen, helpless, as she collided shoulder-first with the leg of a mahogany table, the impact sounding a sickening thud.

The liquid splattered across the floor and onto the cabinet where Laura had just stood. A harsh, acrid stench clawed at everyone’s throats; the paint bubbled, the varnish hissed, and the tiles whitened, pocked with corrosive scars.

It was sulfuric acid.

The room fell deathly silent, everyone’s hearts dropping in unison.

The guards quickly subdued Sylvia, pinning her to the ground, but she no longer struggled. Instead, she muttered the same ragged curse over and over: “I’ll make you pay… I’ll make you pay…”

Quinn’s bodyguards rushed to her side, their faces etched with alarm as they assessed her condition.

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