The Don Tore Up Our Divorce (Gemma and Cassian) novel Chapter 157

**TITLE: Before Rain Touches Earth Memories Return With Gentle Warmth by Eli Dane Crest 157**

**Chapter 157**

**Gemma’s POV**

“Where on earth have you been?”

Cassian’s voice slices through the air, sharp and unforgiving, sending a shiver down my spine. I can’t help but flinch at the intensity of his words.

I haven’t even had the chance to kick off my shoes, and there he is—standing at the foot of the staircase, half-shrouded in shadows, arms crossed defiantly over his chest as if bracing for a storm.

With a deep breath, I straighten my posture, trying to exude calmness despite the tempest brewing inside me.

“I went out to grab a few things,” I reply, my voice steady, even if my heart races beneath the surface.

“Things?” His tone is devoid of warmth, flat as the winter sky. “What things, specifically?”

“I… I needed to pick up some items I forgot to pack from Zina’s place,” I stammer out, fabricating a lie in the moment. His piercing gaze sharpens, scrutinizing me like a predator evaluating its prey. “Oh, really?” he challenges.

I nod, feeling the weight of his scrutiny. He takes a slow, deliberate step forward, each movement calculated, like a panther stalking its prey.

“Then where are they?” he asks coolly, his voice dripping with skepticism. “The… things you went to pick up.”

I blink, my fingers curling nervously at my sides.

“Oh! Right, I must have left them in the cab,” I manage to say, forcing a casual tone. “There wasn’t much, anyway, just a few personal items.”

Cassian raises an eyebrow, skepticism etched across his features.

“Funny! Because I think your cab driver looked an awful lot like Kent Butler.”

Surprise washes over me, my lips parting in shock. He’s been watching me closely, like a hawk zeroing in on its target. My heart skips a beat, but I gather my composure quickly.

“Yes. I ran into him by chance, and he offered to drop me off,” I explain, but I can feel the tension thickening in the air.

Cassian tilts his head slightly, a predatory glint in his eyes.

“Is that so? Or were you planning to meet him all along? What else are you scheming, Gemma—”

“What are you implying?” I retort, instinctively taking a step back. “I just needed to get away for a bit. Is that so wrong?”

He halts in front of me, towering and intimidating.

“You left without telling anyone, vanished for hours, ignored my calls… and you show up with another man,” he accuses, his voice low and dangerous.

I turn my face away, feeling the heat rush to my cheeks, embarrassment mingling with anger.

“Don’t twist this into something it’s not,” I reply, my voice steely.

As I take another step back, my heel catches on the edge of the carpet, and I stumble forward, my reflexes betraying me.

But before I can hit the ground, Cassian’s arms wrap around me, steadying me against his chest. His hands press firmly into my waist, and for a brief moment, I forget the anger that simmered between us, lost in the intoxicating warmth of his presence.

Neither of us speaks, caught in the silence that hangs heavy between us—filled with unspoken words and unresolved feelings.

His breath is warm against my lips, his grip unyielding, holding me so close that I can feel the rapid thud of his heartbeat. Even though every muscle in his body is taut with restraint, his fingers tighten around my waist, as if he can’t help but pull me closer.

In an unexpected moment of weakness, my hands slide up his chest, clutching the fabric of his shirt.

My nails dig into my palms, the tension palpable.

“This is the last thing I expected, and I’m just as worried—actually, never mind. I don’t owe you any explanations! Just tell me the name of the hospital; I need to see Grandpa right now.”

I move past him, heading toward the front door, even though I can feel Cassian’s eyes boring into my back, his frustration palpable.

His jaw clenches in annoyance before he forces out ten words, barely containing his irritation.

“The Johnson Royal Infirmary. I’m going there now; just come with me.”

“No, thank you!”

I spit the words out, bitterness lacing my tone, loathing how his half-hearted offer feels like an inadequate apology. If this is all he can muster, I’d rather he say nothing at all.

He opens his mouth to protest further, but I ignore him, pulling out my phone and jabbing at the ride-sharing app icon with urgency.

The screen flashes: “Battery low!”

Of course.

I curse under my breath. My phone is useless, and there’s no other way to hail a taxi on this private estate.

I glance at Cassian’s car parked by the curb, swallowing my pride.

There’s no choice, is there?

I shove my phone back into my bag and reluctantly follow him toward the car.