The Divorced Military Queen Awakens (by Sadie Baxter) novel Chapter 499

Chapter 499 Hidden Fears

Julius‘ condition was more serious than she had first believed.

What, exactly, is he so terrified of?

That night, Quinn stepped into Everett’s study. “Uncle Everett, I’d like to ask a favor.”

“Whatever you need, just say it.”

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It was rare for his niece to request help; naturally, he would do everything in his power.

“I want to meet Joaquin Whitethorn–Julius‘ father.” If Julius‘ distress began the day he saw his father in that detention center, then she had to trace the pain to its source.

Everett frowned. “Meet him? Joaquin is dangerous. Is it truly necessary?”

“I have to see him, yes. I won’t know why until I face him, but he agreed to see only Julius before. That’s why I need your help.”

The Fane family’s connections threaded through the city like hidden wiring behind polished walls. If Quinn needed a face–to–face with Joaquin, Everett merely had to flick one silent switch, and the gates would swing open.

Everett gave a measured nod, snatching up his phone as though the matter were already solved. “All right. I’ll see to everything.”

Quinn released a breath she had been holding far too long. “Thank you, Uncle Everett. And please, don’t breathe a word of this to Julius.”

Everett’s brows knit in quiet suspicion while his eyes swept over her. “What’s happened between you two now?”

Quinn tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, gaze sliding sideways. “I’m scared he’ll start spinning dark stories in his head again.”

The notion almost made Everett laugh. To him, Julius was a glacier in a tailored suit, a rose blooming alone on a cliff–hardly the type for frantic imaginings.

Still, his niece’s request was a command. Everett softened his expression and sealed the promise with a crisp nod.

Two days later, fluorescent tubes buzzed overhead in the detention–center visiting room, casting a sterile glow on the scuffed metal table where Quinn now sat opposite Joaquin.

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Chapter 499 Hidden Fears

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Joaquin lounged in his chair, shackled wrists resting with the elegance of cufflinks. “I didn’t expect you to insist on seeing me, Ms. Bridger. Tell me–are you not afraid I’ll hurt you again?”

Quinn met his half–smile with frosted calm. “You can only hurt me when you are capable of doing so. People say a tiger spares its cub, yet you, Mr. Whitethorn, carry a venom no animal could match.”

A dry, humorless laugh rattled out of Joaquin. “Venom? The only reason he was born was to keep his mother from leaving me. He failed, and she left. The fact he still breathes is mercy I choose to grant.”

Quinn’s fingers curled into fists on the tabletop. “Julius is not some device for you to manipulate.”

Joaquin’s mouth twisted into an icy crescent. “From his first breath, he was a tool. Someone like him will never share the ordinary happiness you dream about.”

Quinn leaned forward, voice edged like broken glass. “So that was your plan when he visited? You stabbed him with words like these?”

One of Joaquin’s brows arched, amused by her indignation. “Curious about the conversation between father and son, are you?”

Quinn knew a man who dissected human weakness for sport had already divined her purpose in coming.

She lifted her chin, refusing to blink. “Would you even tell me if I asked?”

Joaquin shrugged; the chains gave a soft metallic sigh. “Julius chose silence. Why should I, as his father, betray him? Still, guess away, if it entertains you.”

“You preyed on his conscience, didn’t you? You whispered that our child might inherit his mother’s illness, that any life we built would rot from the blood upward. But Dr. Huxley tends to your family. He knows no such curse stains the Whitethorn genes–her sickness struck later. So why, then, is Julius still afraid?” Quinn said, eyes fixed on Joaquin.

Joaquin’s smile barely lifted the corner of his mouth. “What do

you think?”

Quinn stayed unhurried. She unlocked her phone, queued a video, and angled the screen toward him.

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