The Divorced Military Queen Awakens (by Sadie Baxter) novel Chapter 296

Harlan chuckled. “You truly don’t see your own charm. Back in the force, half the regiment liked you. Had you wanted a boyfriend, applications would have filled a convoy.”

Perhaps at first it was only admiration. Inch by inch, that admiration had grown into a heartbeat that quickened whenever she walked into view.

He realized only when that blizzard swallowed the street and she, legs trembling, hoisted his fever-stricken body onto her back and trudged every frozen step toward the hospital.

The feeling ran so deep, so ruinously deep, that the moment he learned she had married someone else, he bolted overseas.

For three long years, he punished himself in silence, replaying every missed chance, cursing every cowardly breath that had kept the confession locked in his throat. This time, though—this time he would seize the moment with both hands and refuse to let it slip away again.

The next morning, Quinn pulled her collar up against the raw spring wind and stepped into the law firm Harlan had recommended.

The night before, she had told Harlan she needed an attorney—someone who could file suit for the jewelry and cash Trent had lavished on Sidonie while still married to Quinn.

She might have been eager for the divorce, but she had never promised to forfeit what was rightfully hers.

“All right,” Harlan had said. “I’ll line someone up. Just come by the offices tomorrow.”

Quinn had expected a junior associate at best. Instead, the man who rose from behind the mahogany desk was Weston Windore.

“You’re taking my case?”

“That’s right,” Weston said. “Harlan gave me the broad strokes. Legally it’s straightforward.”

The incongruity left her almost amused. Weston was Jexburgh’s leading lawyer, a name that regularly dominated front-page headlines. He handled corporate wars and high-profile murder trials; a simple marital restitution suit was scarcely worth his fountain pen. Having him here felt like aiming a cannon at a paper target.

“But your retainer is legendary,” Quinn protested. “Surely the firm can assign someone else.”

“Relax,” Weston answered. “Harlan specifically told me to keep the fee at the standard rate for a junior associate.”

“Even so, it feels—”

“Call it the Windore family’s way of saying thank you,” he interrupted, smiling. “Back in the service, you looked after that kid. If I hand you off now, he’ll hound me for weeks.”

Because Laura doesn’t have a boyfriend at all—how on earth am I supposed to explain that?

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