The Don Tore Up Our Divorce (Gemma and Cassian) novel Chapter 120

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

**Chapter 120**

Gemma

For a fleeting moment, Cassian seems to wrestle with his thoughts, his gaze flickering between me and the door. Eventually, he offers a small, almost reluctant nod and turns to leave, his broad shoulders moving with a purposeful grace that I can’t help but watch until he disappears from view.

Once the space feels emptier, I find my eyes drawn to the bandage wrapped around my finger. It’s a simple piece of cloth, yet it carries a weight far beyond its physical presence. This is the first time he has ever tended to one of my injuries himself—a gesture that, until now, I had only dared to dream about.

A strange mix of emotions floods through me. Happy? No, that doesn’t quite capture it. It’s more like a heavy, swirling confusion that settles in my chest. If only he had shown me this kind of care a year ago, perhaps I wouldn’t be so resolutely focused on ending our marriage. But now? Now it feels like it’s too late for anything meaningful to blossom between us.

I shuffle over to the couch tucked away in the corner, its fabric cool against my skin as I sink into its embrace. This evening is supposed to be about celebration, yet I feel trapped in a web of my own making.

12:22

Strangely enough, unfamiliar faces keep approaching me, their expressions a mix of curiosity and admiration. I sit there, feeling like a deer caught in headlights, unsure of how to respond. To onlookers, it might seem like I’m breaking free from Cassian, stepping into my own independence. But the reality is starkly different.

My life, aside from my secret identity as a hacker, still revolves entirely around him. Every event, every meal, every plan is orchestrated with him at the center. And here I am, still shackled by the terms of our marriage, with another year to go before I can even consider filing for divorce.

Just as these thoughts swirl in my mind, a young man approaches me. He’s got tousled brown hair and striking green eyes—probably the son of some affluent businessman, given the way he carries himself.

“Hi, miss. You’re stunning. Would I be lucky enough to have this dance?” he asks, his voice laced with innocence, his cheeks flushing a delightful shade of red.

I hesitate, a knot forming in my stomach. “Uh… but I…”

The truth is, I can’t dance. Cassian has never taken the time to teach me, and neither has anyone from the Blackwell family. As I search for a polite way to decline, I turn slightly and catch sight of Cassian striding toward me, his long legs moving with an effortless confidence. There’s a quiet strength in his presence that makes the young man gulp instinctively.

Oh, poor kid.

Cassian’s arm wraps around my waist with a smoothness that feels both protective and possessive. In a voice softer than I’ve ever heard him use, he asks, “Sweetheart, what are you and this gentleman talking about? You two look like you’re having a great time.”

Excuse me? I’ve barely uttered two words! How does that qualify as “a great time”? I can’t help but frown slightly.

The young man pales at the sound of Cassian’s affectionate term, mumbling an excuse before practically bolting from the scene. Cassian’s voice, though gentle, carries enough authority for everyone nearby to take notice, and soon murmurs ripple through the crowd like a wave.

“Wait, she looks so familiar. I’ve seen her somewhere before…”

“Isn’t she the daughter of some big-shot tycoon?”

“No, no… Oh! I remember now! She’s the girl from the Marino family! You know, the ones who racked up an insane debt because their don was a gambling addict?”

“She’s from that family? I thought their syndicate was done for. What’s she even doing here?”

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