The Divorced Military Queen Awakens (by Sadie Baxter) novel Chapter 634

Chapter 634 Hypnosis In The Studio

Chapter 634 Hypnosis In The Studio

He drifted past the rows of canvases, the soles of his shoes whispering across the dusty floor, until his gaze landed on the lone portrait set beneath the skylight.

Unlike the others, this piece had not been born of her trembling hands.

He had hired a celebrated painter to capture her, demanding a likeness so precise it felt almost blasphemous. It was her, his wife, staring back in oil and varnish.

“Tell me,” he murmured, voice scarcely louder than the settling dust, “do you think—just this once–my wish will finally come true?”

But the woman in the frame responded only with the same chill distance that had clouded her eyes in life. He felt the sting of that old, unreachable frost, as though her death had changed nothing at all.

Footsteps echoed in the corridor, crisp against the marble. A moment later, Joaquin pushed open the door and stepped into the studio, the stale air stirring around his tailored coat.

Joaquin’s mouth curved into what passed for a smile, as though he had been waiting for this precise moment. “You came,” he said, sounding as pleased as a host greeting a favored guest.

Julius inclined his head, voice even. “Yes. I came.”

At the entrance, his father’s men had insisted he ascend alone and surrender every weapon he carried.

So he had come unarmed, step by deliberate step, climbing the staircase as though each riser weighed a pound of lead.

This was the first time the two had stood face–to–face in Jexburgh since their encounter in Celosia.

“I came to ask one question,” he said, gaze locked on his father. “What will it take for you to leave Quinn, our child, and me alone for good?”

“If you truly wish her safe,” Joaquin said, tone almost tender, “then sever every tie. Stop loving her. Drive her away. See that the child is never born. Once every thread is cut, I will have no reason to reach for her throat.”

Julius gave a short, humorless laugh. “So I asked a foolish question. In other words, you were never going to spare Quinn.”

“Had you not fallen in love,” Joaquin continued, his words flowing like poisoned honey, “she would never have been dragged into this. It is your love that endangers her life. Had you not fallen for her, none of this pain would exist.”

Joaquin’s voice unfurled through the studio with the softness of a lullaby. Somewhere in the room, a faint ticking noise kept pace, like a muted clock marking leftover seconds. The sound crawled beneath Julius‘ skin. A crease formed between his brows, and a sudden pallor bled across his face.

“From the very beginning,” Joaquin whispered, “you should have loved no one. That way, the ones you love would never face danger, and you would never taste the agony of losing them.”

His voice

grew softer still, melting into the very air until the syllables felt less like sound and more like atmosphere.

At some point, a small pocket watch had appeared in Joaquin’s hand. Its tiny hands twitched, releasing that hypnotic ticking sound.

Julius‘ pupils began to drift. It felt as if the world had slipped beyond the reach of his gaze.

Satisfied, Joaquin allowed a pleased smile to unfurl. He stepped closer, lifted the chain, and let the gleaming watch sway before Julius‘ eyes, the arc of each swing polished and precise.

“But of course, my dear son, there is another path,” he murmured, voice silken. “If you truly refuse to lose the woman you cherish, you can always—”

A sudden hand snapped around Joaquin’s wrist, halting the pendulum in mid–air.

Joaquin froze. In that split second, Julius had snatched the pocket watch.

“I wasn’t aware, Father, that you’d taken up cheap parlor hypnosis,” Julius said, tossing the pocket watch to the floor. He brought his heel down. Metal cracked, and the relentless ticking died with a brittle crunch.

Joaquin blinked, voice catching. “You… You’re not hypnotized?”

Julius met his father’s gaze, voice chilled to steel. “Correct, I’m not hypnotized.”

Ever since news broke that Laura’s stepmother had been mesmerized, Julius dug into the entourage surrounding his father and discovered a traveling mind–bender named Sharon Lanchester waiting in the wings.

Naturally, he began guarding against such tricks himself.

He subjected himself to grueling anti–hypnosis drills and, before setting foot in this villa,

swallowed a cocktail of rare stimulants–bitter pills designed to keep a sliver of consciousness awake no matter what spell might be cast.

What he had not expected was that his father knew the craft as well.

And the old man’s technique, disturbingly, was anything but crude.

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