The Don Tore Up Our Divorce (Gemma and Cassian) novel Chapter 116

**Before Rain Touches Earth Memories Return With Gentle Warmth by Eli Dane Crest 116**

**Chapter 116**

**Gemma**

As I push the bathroom door open, a wave of disbelief washes over me. There, sprawled on the cold tiled floor, is a woman, her breaths coming in sharp gasps as she clutches her chest with trembling hands.

“Hey! Hello? Are you alright?” My voice trembles, laced with urgency.

The woman’s body shakes violently, the fear evident in her eyes. “I… I have a heart condition…”

A chill runs down my spine. Panic flares within me—she’s experiencing a heart attack. Time is of the essence; if she doesn’t receive her medication soon, her life hangs in the balance.

Kneeling beside her, I attempt to project calmness, though my heart races. “Do you have your medicine with you?”

Most individuals with heart ailments carry their medication, a lifeline in emergencies like this. Thankfully, she remains conscious, but the situation is deteriorating rapidly. I must find something to alleviate her symptoms—and fast.

“Hang on, okay? I’ll be right back!” I assure her, my voice steady even as my mind races.

I glance at the clock: 12:19.

Frantically, I scour the changing room for a first aid kit, not wanting to waste a single second. I yank open drawer after drawer, my heart pounding as I dig through the chaos.

Finally, my fingers brush against a box. I seize it, ripping it open with desperate urgency and searching through its contents.

Nitroglycerin. Yes! That should help her.

Without a moment’s hesitation, I dash back to the woman, gently helping her sit up as I place the pill in her trembling hand.

As she swallows it, I watch her breaths gradually become less labored. The color begins to return to her face, a small but significant relief.

But I know this is merely a temporary solution. She needs a hospital—immediately.

I rush to the door, twisting the handle with frantic energy, but it remains stubbornly locked from the outside. I twist and pull, desperation clawing at my throat.

The realization hits me: the room is soundproof. Even if I screamed at the top of my lungs, no one would hear me.

A surge of panic creeps up my spine. What am I going to do now?

That’s when my eyes catch the window.

I sprint over, peering down. It’s the second floor, with grass below—definitely not ideal, but better than nothing.

Biting my lip in determination, I climb onto the ledge, swinging one leg over, ready to jump if it comes to that.

Just as I brace myself for the leap, a man’s voice calls out from below.

“Hey! What are you doing? Don’t jump!”

He’s crossing the backyard, and I can see the alarm etched across his face as he rushes toward me.

“Miss, whatever you’re going through, it’s not worth it! There’s always a way out!”

In that moment, I realize he misunderstands my intentions. I’m not trying to take my life. I open my mouth to clarify—

And then recognition hits me like a wave.

I’ve been at Blackwell Industries for years, working tirelessly in cargo. Though I’m not part of the Blackwell family, I’ve become familiar with every significant client.

The man below? Kane Butler.

A powerful figure in high society, part European royalty, and undeniably striking—tall, blond, with piercing blue eyes that command attention.

“You’ve got it wrong!” I shout back, my voice rising above the tension. “I’m not trying to jump! The door’s locked from the outside, and there’s a woman in here having a heart attack! We need an ambulance!”

His expression shifts instantly, understanding dawning. He pulls out his phone, dialing emergency services with swift precision, relaying the address.

Then, with the assistance of one of the banquet staff, he manages to get the door open.

They stay by my side until the ambulance arrives, helping to lift the woman onto a stretcher with care.

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