The Don Tore Up Our Divorce (Gemma and Cassian) novel Chapter 1

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**Before Rain Touches Earth Memories Return With Gentle Warmth by Eli Dane Crest**

**Chapter 1**

Gemma’s POV

“Madam Blackwell, it seems Mr. Blackwell is unlikely to return tonight. Perhaps you should consider resting?” The servant’s tone is gentle, yet the undercurrent of sympathy cuts deeper than the throbbing pain in my shoulder.

I remain silent, my gaze fixed on the dining table, where a feast lies untouched—plates adorned with herb-crusted lamb, velvety risotto, and fresh asparagus drizzled delicately with hollandaise sauce. And there, the pièce de résistance, a decadent chocolate lava cake, crafted with care, despite the doctor’s stern warnings.

Tonight marks our third wedding anniversary, and here I am, playing the role of a lovesick wife, convinced that a flawless dinner can somehow mend the fractures in our marriage.

The clock chimes once, then twice.

“Just a little longer, Chloe,” I whisper, forcing a smile that feels more like a fragile mask than a genuine expression. “He’ll come. He’s just… caught up with something important.”

I reach for my phone, hoping against hope for a message.

But the screen remains dark—no missed calls, no texts, no sign of Cassian.

With a heavy sigh, I begin to stack the plates, preparing to reheat the lamb yet again, when suddenly, the screen illuminates.

Cassian? My heart races with anticipation—

I open the notification, my excitement quickly turning to despair as the headline slices through me: *Tycoon Cassian Blackwell Reunites with Reyna Holloway at Private Airstrip—Wedding Bells on the Horizon?*

Air catches in my throat, and the room begins to spin. The images flood my screen: Cassian under a brooding sky, an umbrella shielding Reyna’s sleek silhouette as she descends from a private jet.

Reyna.

My stepsister.

The very woman who drove my mother to the brink of insanity, who captured my father’s affections, and left me drowning in her wake of debt and chaos.

There she stands beside him, clutching an extravagant bouquet of crimson roses that seem to glow even in the dim light, that triumphant smile gracing her lips—the very smile that vanished three years ago when she learned of my engagement to Cassian.

*After a mysterious disappearance, Holloway returns—straight into Blackwell’s arms?*

No. This cannot be happening. On our anniversary?

The phone slips from my numb fingers, clattering against the floor.

Reyna—he chose her. Again.

He didn’t even bother to disguise it.

Cassian Blackwell has the power to conceal empires, to orchestrate entire wars, yet here he is, parading his choice for the world to see, for me to witness—who he truly desires.

A laugh escapes me, a fractured sound that echoes in the silence. I blow out the candles, the smoke stinging my eyes, or perhaps it’s just the tears that refuse to be held back.

After what feels like an eternity, I ascend the stairs like a specter, dragging my weary self toward the bathroom, yearning for the embrace of hot water to wash away the humiliation that clings to me like a second skin.

Steam envelops the room as I turn on the shower, the mirror fogging over my reflection: eyes rimmed in red, skin pale and ghostly. The elegant emerald dress hangs on me like a forgotten flower, adrift on a dark summer river, wilting under the weight of despair.