The Divorced Military Queen Awakens (by Sadie Baxter) novel Chapter 599

"A warning?" Weston's gaze settled on her, dark and unblinking. "Didn't you say you never wanted anything to do with me again?"

"Weston, even if you were a total stranger, I'd still come." Laura's tone was solemn, almost fierce. "If you stand by and let something awful happen just because the victim means nothing to you, that's what's truly terrifying. You're a lawyer—you can't have lost that basic sense of justice."

Justice. He once believed in it—believed so fiercely that the word felt carved into his bones. But the years blurred the carving until only one word remained readable in the dictionary of his life: win. Every case, every motion, every closing argument was about victory—nothing else.

Until Laura. She was the first battle he ever lost—and lost so completely that the defeat still stung in places success could never touch.

His voice dropped to a murmur, as though the words were for himself alone. "So you're telling me I'm still nothing more than a passerby to you?"

"Yes." The single syllable was firm, almost gentle, yet it sliced cleanly between them.

"Then tell me, Laura, if a passer-by drinks a glass that's been drugged, what heroic plan do you have for that?"

What? Laura's eyes widened. She stared at him, stunned. Had he already taken the tainted drink? He looked perfectly composed—too composed.

Weston's next words slid out, smooth yet ice-cold. "Are you going to exercise that sparkling sense of justice of yours and use your own body to 'help' me?"

The sentence he had just spoken dripped with suggestion, yet in his mouth it sounded cutting, almost merciless.

"I'll call a doctor," she answered evenly. "But if you really drank it, Weston, you would have called one yourself by now."

He smiled—a curve of lips with no warmth behind it.

"Since you're here, stay and watch how this ends." With that, Weston turned and walked back toward the three people pinned to the marble floor by security.

The middle-aged man begged for mercy, voice cracking. The two women beside him trembled so hard their jewelry rattled, each pleading over the other. The elder of the pair lifted her head and shrieked above the din.

"Mr. Windore, it wasn't me! Giselle heard you were heartbroken and tried to take advantage. The scheme was hers. I only found out moments ago—I'm innocent, I swear!"

"Innocent?" Weston looked down at her, expression flat. "Accomplice is the word you want."

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