The Divorced Military Queen Awakens (by Sadie Baxter) novel Chapter 628

Chapter 628 Peril And Promises

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“I will bring Laura back alive. Not for your sake, but because Quinn cares about her.” Without waiting for a response, he ended the call.

“Hey! Hey!” Weston stared at the lifeless screen, fury and dread swirling where the connection had been.

Earlier that day, Weston had tried Laura’s phone. No answer greeted him but the endless ringtone.

He knew she had gone to the hospital to help Harvey complete his discharge papers, so he tracked the man down.

Harvey, still weak, told him that Laura had gone on afterward to see her father. Following that faint thread, Weston combed the city until he found that tiny pasta bar. Every camera within a block had been smashed or wiped clean, leaving not a single frame of footage–an efficiency that made him think of only one man, Joaquin Whitethorn.

Joaquin had once tried to kill Quinn and, in doing so, had already dragged Laura into peril. If it happened once, Weston knew, it could happen again.

Julius‘ curt answers on the phone confirmed his worst fear–Laura had indeed been taken by Joaquin.

Panic tightened Weston’s chest until each breath scraped like glass.

Joaquin was a madman. In his grasp, Laura’s odds of survival shrank to almost nothing.

Julius had promised to rescue her, yet Weston refused to stake Laura’s life on that man’s promise. No matter what, he would confront Julius in person and force a plan he could trust.

Inside the dim bedroom, Fabian remained standing while Gavin lounged on the windowsill. Quinn’s slow, steady breaths filled the space between them.

Gavin chuckled. “You plan to stand there until Quinn wakes up?”

“That is exactly the plan,” Fabian answered, eyes never leaving the sleeping woman.

“Suit yourself,” Gavin said. “But grab a chair. She will not open her eyes for hours.”

Only an hour had passed since Fabian had entered the room.

He started to reply, but a sudden shift on Quinn’s heart monitor stole the words from his

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Chapter 628 Peril And Promises

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Gavin tracked Fabian’s unsettled stare toward the sickbed, where Quinn lay motionless beneath the pale glow of the monitoring screen. Something in that stillness pricked at the back of his neck. “What is it?” Gavin asked, voice dropping to a sharpened whisper as he stepped closer.

A tremor fluttered through Quinn’s head; her dark hair shifted like grass stirred by a shy breeze, hinting at a consciousness struggling upward from the drug–induced abyss. Even more startling, her lips parted, releasing a faint, broken moan.

Adrenaline cracked through Gavin; he lurched to his feet and lunged to the bedside.

Years in emergency wards had taught him the smallest tells. A twitching head, a groan–those were signs she was coming to.

Yet unease coiled beneath the relief. Gavin knew Julius‘ methods, and the sedative he chose should have kept Quinn asleep for far longer than a single hour.

So the drug had not failed. Quinn herself must be burning through it, her combat–honed metabolism shredding the chemical chains before they could hold.

That reminded him that Quinn was the former captain of the Falcon Special Forces. Soldiers like her were schooled in anti–toxin drills, their veins made hostile ground for foreign chemicals. No wonder the sedative was losing the battle.

“Is Mrs. Whitethorn waking?” Fabian murmured, hope and alarm wrestling in his voice.

“It looks that way,” Gavin answered, never lifting his gaze from Quinn’s restless face.

The next ten minutes stretched out like a tightrope. Each breath she drew grew deeper; each flicker of her lashes beat stronger against captivity, until the room itself seemed to pulse in anticipation.

Then, with a sudden clarity that sliced the hush, her round eyes snapped open, bright and fierce as twin spotlights returning to life.

Dizziness clawed at her skull, yet Quinn forced herself upright, elbows trembling against the mattress as though she were hauling herself out of deep water.

“Julius… Where is he?” Quinn asked, breaths ragged as if each syllable weighed a stone.

“Mr. Whitethorn has already left,” Fabian replied carefully.

“Left?” Her eyes locked onto him. “Where did he go?”

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Chapter 628 Peril And Promises

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Fabian pressed his lips together and said nothing; Julius‘ final order sealed his throat tighter than any oath.

Gavin’s attention drifted from her face to her hand, where a band of snowy jade circled her thumb–the ring.

He had suspected Julius would leave that token behind, a silent guardian in gemstone form.

Yet seeing it now, aglow against Quinn’s skin, struck Gavin harder than he cared to admit.

For generations, only the head of the Whitethorn family had borne that seal.

Now, for the first time, it rested on a hand that did not even share the name.

So this is how far Julius will go for her. He is laying every escape route in advance, turning his own legacy into her shield.

“That ring on your finger… Julius gave it to you, right? Did he say anything when he slipped it on?” Gavin asked.

Fabian, following Gavin’s gesture, finally noticed the ring himself; surprise rippled across his features.

“He slid it on after my eyes closed,” Quinn said, thumb rubbing the cool stone. “I could still hear, though, so I know exactly what the ring means.”

That band symbolized the pinnacle of Whitethorn authority—the power to command assets, people, even islands with a single imprint.

Along with it came the will Julius had once pressed her to sign—another lifeline hidden beneath layers of foresight.

Looking back at everything he did, is he smoothing the path because he feared he might never return?

Quinn threw back the heavy quilt. Her feet sought the floor, balance wavering, yet purpose steel–sharp. “I have the ring now. That makes me the highest authority in the Whitethorn family, doesn’t it?” she asked, voice steady as a drawn blade.

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