The Don Tore Up Our Divorce (Gemma and Cassian) novel Chapter 187

**Before Rain Touches Earth Memories Return With Gentle Warmth by Eli Dane Crest 187**

**Chapter 187**

**Reyna’s POV**

I lift the umbrella a fraction higher, inching closer to him, ensuring that not a single drop of rain dares to touch his skin.

“You’re completely drenched…” I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper, careful to keep the concern in my tone soft.

“Gemma would be devastated if she knew you were out here like this. She must have gotten caught up in something, Cassian! She wouldn’t just leave you hanging like this.”

The words roll off my tongue like honey, sweet and smooth, even though I know they’re a bitter pill for him to swallow.

Cassian’s jaw tightens, his fingers gripping the umbrella handle tightly, as if it were the only thing keeping him anchored.

Forget it! She’s not coming.

With a sudden surge of frustration, he flings the umbrella aside, stepping boldly into the downpour, as if he’s just delivered a final decree.

He strides away from the restaurant, and I tighten my grip on the umbrella, hurrying after him, a small, triumphant smile threatening to break free.

Everything is falling into place just as I envisioned.

—

The concierge girl downstairs had been visibly shaken at first, her hands trembling as I offered her the money.

Yet, she accepted it, trading her integrity for a single, well-crafted lie. She was to claim that she had never seen, met, or even heard of a Mrs. Gemma Blackwell.

From that moment on, it was just a matter of sending a well-timed text and exercising a little patience. Now, the game is firmly in my hands.

“Cassian!” I call out, my voice cutting through the rain-soaked air. “Wait, please! You’ll catch a cold out there!”

By the time we reach the hotel, Cassian’s anger has only intensified, a storm brewing within him. And honestly, that works to my advantage: anger is so much easier to manipulate than indifference.

The elevator ride is thick with tension, the air crackling with unspoken words. As the doors slide open, I deliberately pause for a heartbeat, just as I anticipated he would notice.

Reyna?

I blink, momentarily dazed, feigning surprise. “Oh! I didn’t realize we had arrived…”

I take a hesitant step toward him, allowing my knees to give way, the umbrella slipping from my grasp and landing with a soft thud on the floor.

“C…Cassian…”

His head whips around, surprise flashing in his eyes. “Reyna?”

“I-I’m fine, really… just a little dizzy.” I place a hand on my forehead, trying to appear as if I’m struggling to steady myself. “It’s probably just the rain…”

He reaches out, his fingers brushing against my forehead, his frown deepening. “You’re burning up.”

“It’s just a slight fever. Don’t worry, I can handle it.”

I mumble, letting my eyelids flutter as if I’m barely able to keep them open.

To my relief, he doesn’t walk away. His lips press together, frustration and concern battling within him, before he finally wraps an arm around my back. “You can’t walk like this. Come on, I’ll help you to your room.”

He supports me all the way to my suite, our clothes leaving a trail of water droplets in our wake. I lean my head against his shoulder just a fraction, but it’s enough for him to hold onto me throughout the journey.

He lays me down gently on the bed, reaching for the blanket.

“Cassian…” I murmur, attempting to sound bashful. “You really don’t have to stay—”

22 missed calls, all from the same name flashing on the screen.

Cassian Blackwell.

I stare at the phone, my thumb hovering over the call button. Should I return his call? Should I send him a text?

Part of me yearns to explain, to alleviate the worry I’ve caused him, especially when a message from him pops up with the details of the restaurant.

Guilt washes over me for standing him up, but another part hesitates, the part that overheard Reyna discussing their lunch plans with him.

Zina is at the reception, negotiating for whatever rooms are left. Jace stands behind her, arms crossed, a silent pillar of support.

Neither of them would be good to ask if I’m overreacting, so I absentmindedly flick through my social media notifications.

Just then, a new post catches my eye.

@Reylife (Reyna Holloway) 5 minutes ago

“So lucky to have you on this special night. Even if we missed the dinner reservation, I’m happy as long as we are together…”

The accompanying photo shows her lounging on a hotel bed, a light blanket draped over her lap, her pale calves displayed. Flowers and candles are artfully arranged around her, but it’s the bottom right corner that steals my breath away.

A man’s back, clad in a black shirt. His shoulders are tense, the image slightly blurred as he seems to be turning away from the camera.

But the dark gray tie is unmistakable, still knotted in the Eldredge style I had tied for him that very morning.

I’m torn between wanting to cry and wanting to shatter something in frustration, but my phone shouldn’t bear the brunt of my emotions.

The screen blurs momentarily, and I blink hard, forcing the image to sharpen before I slip the phone quietly back into my pocket.