Chapter 296 Quiet Devotion
Chapter 296 Quiet Devotion
Han chuckled. “You truly don’t see your own charm. Back in the force, half the regiment liked <b>you </b><i>Had </i>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 <b>that </b>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<b>, </b><b>he </b>bolted overseas.
For three long years, he punished himself in silence, reying 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 cor up against the raw spring wind and stepped into thew firm Han had rmended.
The night before, she had told Han she needed an attorney–someone who could file suit for the jewelry and cash Trent hadvished 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 <b>hers</b><b>. </b>
“All right,” Han had said. “I’ll line someone up. Juste 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. “Han gave me the broad strokes. Legally it’s straightforward.”
The incongruity left her almost amused. Weston was Jexburgh’s leadingwyer, a name that regrly 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.”
“Rx,” Weston answered. “Han 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.”
With that, her objections crumbled. “All right, and thank you.”
Their paperwork settled, Quinn gathered her coat. She had just reached the door when Weston spoke.
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<b>172 </b>
1710 190 7 Aug
<b>Chapter </b><b>296 </b><b>Quiet </b>Devotion
<b>again</b>. “You and Laura are close,” he said quietly. “Did she ever tell <b>you </b>why she walked away from me all those years <b>ago</b>!”
He remembered Laura’s devotion–how imusible it seemed that a single off–hand <b>remark </b>overticard as a bar could shatter something that fierce.
“Hmm?” Quinn paused, surprised by the question, then answered honestly, “No. She never has
“What sort of man is she seeing now?” Weston pressed.
“Seeing?” Quinn tasted the word, lips tightening. “You’ll have to ask Laura yourself. It’s her private life–l can’tment.”
He arched one brow. “You can’t even describe the guy?”
“That’s right. I can’t.”
<i>Because </i><i>Laura </i><i>doesn’t </i><i>have </i><i>a </i><i>boyfriend </i><i>at </i><i>all</i><i>–</i>how <i>on </i><i>earth </i><i>am </i><b><i>I </i></b><i>supposed </i><i>to </i>exin that?
Weston let the matter drop and said nothing more.
After Quinn stepped out of the office, Weston slipped a hand into his jacket, drew his cell phone, and dialed a number he knew by heart.
The call connected at once. “Hello? This is Laura Wentworth,” came Laura’s voice<b>, </b>“and you are-?”
“It’s Weston,” he said, each syble edged in frost. “Concerning what you did to me the night beforest, I believe we need a serious discussion.”
A nervous cough crackled through the speaker. “I didn’t do anything to you. We both left with our clothes perfectly in ce.”
“Wearing clothes doesn’t mean nothing happened,” Weston replied. “In a moment, I’ll forward proof of your actions. If you refuse to talk, we can always meet in court.”
The moment the call cut off, Laura red at the dark screen as though it had betrayed her. <i>What </i><i>kind </i><i>of </i>ridiculous <i>evidence </i><i>can </i><i>that </i><i>man </i><i>possibly </i><i>have</i><i>? </i>
A few secondster, a new notification blinked on the disy. Weston had sent a video.
Laura pressed y, and what she saw made heat flood her cheeks. She clenched her free hand, fighting the urge to p herself for such reckless behavior.