**TITLE: Before Rain Touches Earth Memories Return With Gentle Warmth by Eli Dane Crest 196**
**Chapter 196**
**Gemma’s POV**
Mikhail’s lips twitch ever so slightly, a flicker of emotion that doesn’t quite find its way into words in response to my question. The silence stretches between us, thick and uncomfortable.
“Well? Answer her…” Smith prompts, his voice sharp as he narrows his gaze at Mikhail, the tension palpable in the air. It’s evident that Mikhail is not here out of a genuine desire but rather because his father is looming over him like a storm cloud, demanding compliance.
He resembles a wild creature trapped in a cage, forced to perform under duress. Smith, however, shows little empathy for his son’s predicament. With a light smack to Mikhail’s shoulder, he asserts his authority.
“If you are going to apologize, at least muster the decency to do it properly…”
Mikhail’s jaw clenches tightly, his eyes flashing with a mix of pure anger and irritation. For a fleeting moment, I can see the urge within him to declare how much he resents being here, how he wishes he could walk away from this charade.
But instead, he exhales sharply through his nose, his voice low and strained as he mutters, “I’m sorry for staging that fake attack… and for dragging you into it. It was completely unnecessary.”
He immediately turns his gaze away, as if the mere act of admitting his wrongdoing makes him feel nauseous. His defiance is almost a palpable force, yet I refuse to shrink back in the face of his displeasure.
“You don’t sound very sorry… actually, you sound like a man who got caught—”
Smith’s expression shifts to one of horror at my blunt observation, and he quickly interjects, “What he means is, it was completely unacceptable and will never happen again.”
Mikhail doesn’t argue; instead, he continues to stare out the window, his silence heavy with stubbornness, still radiating defiance.
“Okay,” I say with a casual shrug, attempting to ease the tension. “But honestly, there was no need to force your sincerity. If you need something from your father, I could probably help negotiate it for you—this whole scene wasn’t really necessary.”
His head snaps back to me, surprise flickering across his features, momentarily overshadowing his anger.
“Help me?”
His incredulity is palpable, and I nod, feeling a surge of confidence.
“Yes, you want to keep your operations running, don’t you?”
Mikhail stares at me as though I’ve just spoken in a foreign tongue, one he never expected me to master. For a heartbeat, it seems he forgets to breathe, caught off guard by my unexpected offer.
Mr. Smith notices the calculating look in his son’s eyes and reacts instinctively, delivering a sharp smack to the back of Mikhail’s head.
“I’m not just your father; I’m your boss too! You will apologize, and you will mean it.”
In that moment, I can almost see the last remnants of his rebellion crumbling under the weight of his father’s authority. He slumps slightly, his voice barely above a whisper as he begins, “Fine… I’m sorry. I came of my own free will to apologize to you.”
It’s the same morose tone, only louder, and his lips twist into a pout that would elicit laughter from me if it weren’t for the memory of his reckless stunt yesterday.
For once, he avoids my gaze, and beneath his arrogant facade, I catch a glimpse of wounded pride, a flicker of vulnerability that betrays his bravado.
“Fine,” I reply smoothly, “Apology accepted.”
Smith exhales with visible relief, but I raise a hand to stall him, noticing the beginnings of a smile creeping onto his face.
“However, the partnership is still a no for me.”



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