The Divorced Military Queen Awakens (by Sadie Baxter) novel Chapter 594

**Military 594: Sole Heiress**

“Accident? What sort of accident are we discussing here?” Quinn’s voice was barely above a whisper, the weight of the question hanging heavily in the air.

A subtle smile graced Julius’ lips, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. “I’m merely speaking in hypotheticals, love. The Whitethorn estate must never, under any circumstances, fall into my father’s grasp. To me, the only rightful heir to everything I possess is you. Thus, you alone will stand as the sole beneficiary.”

Quinn’s heart sank as she absorbed his words. Even their unborn child had been conspicuously absent from that equation, a realization that sent a chill down her spine.

While Julius’ reasoning seemed flawless on the surface, an unnamed dread began to coil tightly in Quinn’s chest, tightening like a noose.

This dread pulsed beneath her ribs—quiet yet persistent, an unsettling reminder of the precariousness of their situation.

“Everything will be fine. It’s just a precaution; it doesn’t mean anything will actually happen,” Julius murmured, his tone soothing, as if he could quell the storm brewing inside her.

At that moment, he had her, and he had their child.

Unless fate conspired against him, he was determined to protect their lives with every ounce of strength he possessed.

Because what he desired more than power, more than revenge, was to remain by her side, forever.

Moments later, they stepped into the sitting room, where attorney Harold Gant awaited them, flanked by two assistants and a sleek briefcase that seemed to hold the weight of the world.

“Mr. Whitethorn, the documents are prepared—three identical copies. Once you and your wife affix your signatures, I will file all subsequent paperwork. From then on, Mrs. Whitethorn will be recognized as your sole lawful heir,” Harold announced, his voice steady and professional.

Julius nodded, his expression one of determination. “Good.”

With a graceful motion, the assistant glided forward, presenting two thick binders—one for Quinn and one for Julius.

The fountain pen glided across the thick ivory page, swift and assured, leaving Julius’ signature gleaming like fresh ink on silk beneath the warm amber light.

Each clause in that formidable stack of papers had been meticulously negotiated with his attorney; he could recite them by heart, as easily as his own name. Just as he had promised her, the will declared in stark, unyielding terms that upon his death, everything he owned would be transferred to her. Shares, real estate deeds, rare paintings, antique jewelry—each meticulous line detailed them all—and further still, it appointed her as the sole guardian of his memorial arrangements, a power that no one else could contest. To any observer, it would appear disturbingly like a man preparing to tidy up the remnants of his life before the curtain fell. In life or in death, Julius intended for everything he was, and everything he owned, to belong solely to her.

Meanwhile, Quinn turned the pages slowly, allowing the paper to whisper between her fingers, the texture both familiar and foreign.

Just as Julius had forewarned her, the will outlined in clinical detail that upon his death, she would inherit everything—the Whitethorn Group, the family estate, every share, every antique, every square foot of property.

It even appointed her as the sole guardian of his funeral arrangements, explicitly barring every other relative from interfering, as if the document served as a long, cool farewell pinned to the future. A chill coursed through her. The pages felt less like mere paper and more like gravestones, marking the final chapter of a life yet to be lived.

Julius leaned closer, his breath warm against her ear. “Why are you hesitating? Does something still trouble you?”

Quinn hesitated, the pen hovering just above the page, a storm of emotions swirling within her. “You don’t truly need to draft a will like this,” she said, her voice a blend of pleading and disbelief.

“I’ve told you before—everything I own is already yours,” he insisted, his tone unwavering.

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