The Don Tore Up Our Divorce (Gemma and Cassian) novel Chapter 126

**Before Rain Touches Earth Memories Return With Gentle Warmth by Eli Dane Crest 126**

After ensuring Reyna was safely settled at the hospital, I finally made my way back to the estate. The weight of the day’s events lingered in my mind, but I was relieved that she would be okay.

As I stepped through the threshold of the grand entrance, the familiar scent of polished wood and old books enveloped me. Donovan, lounging on the couch, turned his head at the sound of the door creaking open, and his expression soured instantly.

An uneasy knot twisted in my stomach.

“Where’s Gemma?” he demanded, his tone sharp and accusatory.

I felt my heart drop. Had I really left the banquet without so much as a farewell to her?

Wait… she hasn’t returned yet?

“She’s not home?” I echoed, disbelief coloring my voice.

The moment the words left my lips, Donovan erupted. He shot up from his seat, fury radiating off him like heat from a furnace.

“You little bastard! She’s your wife! You took her out during the day and didn’t even bother to bring her back at night? And now you’re asking me where she is? Have you completely lost your damn mind?”

His outburst struck me like a physical blow. I felt the weight of his anger settle heavily on my shoulders, and I knew I had messed up again.

Without wasting a moment, I fished my phone from my pocket and dialed Gemma’s number, my fingers trembling slightly as I pressed the buttons.

But all I received was a dispassionate, robotic voice: “The number you’re trying to reach is currently unavailable. Please try again later…”

Frustration surged through me as I redialed, my heart racing with each failed attempt.

Is her phone turned off?

Donovan’s voice boomed from the living room, cutting through my panic.

“If you don’t bring Gemma back tonight, don’t even think about coming back yourself!”

A chill crept into my bones. The darkness outside deepened, and dread settled in my chest. If something had happened to her…

With no other option, I reluctantly called Zina. The thought of reaching out to her made my stomach churn, especially after she had taken Gemma to that bar the other night. But she was likely the only friend Gemma had who might know where she was.

“Hello? Who is this?” Zina’s voice came through, laced with irritation.

“Is Gemma with you?” I asked, trying to keep my tone steady.

Silence hung in the air, heavy and uncomfortable. I could sense her recognition of my voice, the tension palpable.

Her reply was icy, sharper than I anticipated. “Gemma’s your wife, not mine. Why the hell are you asking me where she is?”

“She’s really not with you?” I pressed, desperation creeping into my voice.

“Dear big bad mafia man Cassian,” she sneered. “Did you lose Gemma again because of Reyna?”

*****

Zina

Cassian’s call caught me completely off guard.

He doesn’t even know where his own wife is?

Fury bubbled up inside me, and I abruptly hung up on him.

Then, with a sense of urgency, I dialed Gemma’s number myself. It went straight to voicemail.

“Fuck!” I exclaimed, slamming my phone down onto the couch in frustration.

Just then, the guy from my shower emerged, a towel draped low around his hips, water glistening on his skin. His toned abs were on full display, and I couldn’t help but notice.

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