The Don Tore Up Our Divorce (Gemma and Cassian) novel Chapter 199

**TITLE: Before Rain Touches Earth Memories Return With Gentle Warmth by Eli Dane Crest 199**
**CONTENT: Chapter 199**

**Chapter 206**

Gemma’s POV

The atmosphere in the room hangs heavy with an uncomfortable silence, a stark contrast to the audacious offer he just laid before me. Cassian’s proposition, brimming with a casual arrogance, suggests he believes he’s bestowing a favor upon me, as if my dreams are so trivial they could easily fit into the palm of his hand.

I find myself seated across from him, my gaze locked onto his face, illuminated by the soft glow of my laptop. The light casts shadows across his damp torso, painting him in hues of blue and purple. But if he thinks I should feel grateful, he is sorely mistaken.

“No,” I respond, my voice steady and unwavering.

“No?”

His voice barely rises above a whisper, echoing my refusal with a hint of disbelief.

I can sense his surprise without needing to glance away. Cassian Blackwell is not a man accustomed to hearing the word ‘no.’

The thought of becoming a flight attendant, as my grandfather once suggested, or remaining a warehouse worker, as I currently am, fills me with a sense of dread. Those paths do not resonate with my true passions. Hacking is my calling, and no amount of scrutiny from Mikhail will deter me; I am confident in my abilities.

“I’m not interested in your company, and I certainly have no desire for any position you might offer. Since I resigned, I have not once entertained the idea of returning. In fact, I have already accepted an offer elsewhere…”

“Elsewhere!”

“Yes, Dream International. Once I return, I’ll be joining their entertainment subsidiary.”

For a fleeting moment, I catch a glimpse of genuine surprise flickering across his features, but it quickly morphs into a light, mocking laugh.

“Dream International? Are you applying as a receptionist or an office assistant? Let me at least negotiate a decent salary on your behalf, or you’ll find yourself fetching coffee in exchange for pennies—”

A familiar sting of hurt and dismissal ignites within me. I knew it. In his eyes, I will always be seen as insignificant. He truly believes that’s the pinnacle of my potential?!

“Mr. Blackwell, you are sorely mistaken. Even if I am deemed useless, I possess a multitude of skills. At the very least, I could be an artist in their entertainment division. Even a vase can find its place in the spotlight.”

I hurl his own veiled insult back at him, my words sharp and deliberate.

His expression shifts to one of genuine astonishment. “An artist? Don’t tell me you think you’re cut out for that?”

The retort simmers on my tongue, hot and biting.

“Haven’t you noticed? Half the industry is filled with individuals whose only qualification is looking good under the lights.”

His eyes narrow, skepticism etched across his features.

“So that’s your plan? To be a vase?” His gaze sharpens, as if he’s trying to decipher whether I’m bluffing. “Do you really believe that qualifies you to survive in a corporation like Dream International? Beauty does not equate to ability.”

“Clearly, Dream International thinks otherwise! While looks may not hold much weight for you, don’t pretend they don’t open doors. And for the record, arrogance does not equate to truth either.”

I recall a time, long ago, when I asked him to change that very ringtone. I remember how he laughed dismissively.

“Why should I? It’s just a ringtone,” he had said, treating my request as if it were a childish whim.

But it was never just a ringtone. Reyna had set it herself once, and he had never bothered to change it back.

I had asked him to switch it, not because I despised the song, but because I loathed what it represented. It was a reminder that she had left a mark on him that I could never erase. How could I explain to him that hearing something so intimate, so personal, reserved for another woman, stung like a fresh wound?

To him, my request was nothing more than a petty complaint.

He had laughed even harder when I suggested replacing it with something else. “What do you know about music, Gemma? Don’t make trouble over trivial things.”

As if my two years of practice in college, the countless hours spent on stiff keyboards in borrowed rooms, were all inconsequential. He never even knew I could play… he never cared to find out.

Now, every note grates against my ears. The sweet, romantic melody he associates only with her feels like a taunt, a public declaration of where his true affections lie.

I stand rooted to the spot, paralyzed by the sound, waiting for him to answer, a tightness coiling in my chest and a bitter taste rising in my throat.

The ringtone ceases, only to resume, its insistent chime tugging at the bitterness buried deep within me.

Finally, Cassian answers.

And Reyna’s voice spills into the room like a sudden storm. “Cassian? Thank God you picked up. I—I missed my flight. I’m still at the airport. Can you come and get me?”