The Don Tore Up Our Divorce (Gemma and Cassian) novel Chapter 130

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

**Chapter 130**

**Cassian**

Once Gemma departs, I find myself fixated on the wedding ring resting on the table, its presence heavy and suffocating. The bitter ache in my chest feels like a lead weight, pulling me down into a sea of regret.

I’ve just spent three times the amount Reyna originally paid to reclaim it, believing that the gesture would spark joy in Gemma’s heart.

Yet, to my dismay, she has made it abundantly clear that she has no desire for it.

What does that mean for our marriage?

Is it truly so irreparably broken?

The thought gnaws at me, a relentless headache that refuses to dissipate with time.

That night, I make the decision to avoid the bedroom altogether, opting instead for the couch in the living room. The cushions, meant for comfort, feel foreign and unwelcoming.

Today, I find myself in the study, my eyes burning holes into the report my assistant has sent over.

My mood darkens further as I read the figures.

Ever since Moonlight took control of the project, everything has gone off without a hitch.

Despite having one of the industry’s top hackers on our team, they pale in comparison to the prowess of Moonlight.

[Mr. Blackwell, Moonlight has just taken on a new project. This one is linked to Fortress Entertainment.]

The message hits me like a sledgehammer, intensifying the throbbing in my temples.

[Mr. Blackwell, should we consider a partnership with Moonlight? If they continue to assist our rivals, it could spell disaster for us in the future.]

It’s not that I’m against collaborating with Moonlight.

They’ve made their stance crystal clear—they refuse to engage in any projects that have even the slightest connection to Blackwell Industries or myself.

So what options do I have left?

If Moonlight hadn’t intervened, Fortress Entertainment would have been a significant victory for us and our legitimate ventures.

Those legitimate holdings are essential to support our less-than-legal activities.

But now?

The prospect of that victory seems increasingly distant.

I find myself hesitating, caught in a web of uncertainty.

Moonlight is far more formidable than I had anticipated.

At this rate, they could soon become a serious threat to the future of the Blackwell family.

I need to figure out a way to win them over, but the method eludes me.

*****

**Gemma**

I’ve just finalized a new collaboration and am about to close my laptop when the bedroom door swings open unexpectedly. Instinctively, I sit up straighter, my defenses rising as Cassian steps into the room.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, my voice steady but laced with surprise.

He looks weary, as if the weight of the world rests on his shoulders. He approaches me, extending a sleek black card toward me.

“This is for you. Use it to buy a birthday gift for Grandpa.”

“Zina, is that painting I left at your place still there?”

“Of course! That thing’s valuable—I wouldn’t dare touch it.” Zina has been guarding that piece like it’s made of gold.

“I’m coming to get it.”

There’s a pause on the other end, and then she exclaims, “Wait, what? Have you finally come to your senses? Planning to burn it? Make a clean break from Cassian?”

“Burn it? Why would I do that? If I can sell it for a good price, I’m selling it. There’s an auction today. With a bit of luck, I might even get a decent sum for it.”

The painting was inspired by the love story that once existed between Cassian and me. I used to hold it dear, unwilling to part with it no matter how high the offer.

But now? Getting Donovan a proper gift takes precedence. The figures in that painting no longer share love; what’s the point in holding onto it? I’m done deceiving myself.

Very few people know that I once pursued oil painting seriously—and even excelled at it. When that piece first debuted, it garnered a lot of admiration. But I couldn’t bear to let it go, so I withdrew it from the exhibit and tucked it away.

Honestly, if I weren’t so financially strapped, I might have forgotten it existed altogether.

Zina lights up when I tell her I’m selling it. She was just as thrilled when I sold my wedding ring to Reyna for an outrageous price.

I’ve always felt compelled to rid myself of everything that reminds me of Cassian.

I hop into a cab to Zina’s to retrieve the painting. She tries to persuade me to stay for lunch, but I politely decline.

“What’s the rush?” she asks, her brow furrowing with concern.

“It’s been sitting around long enough. Why delay the sale?”

“I need the money. The sooner I can get this done, the better. Once I get paid, lunch will be on me. Bye!”

And with that, I turn and walk away, determined to move forward.