The Don Tore Up Our Divorce (Gemma and Cassian) novel Chapter 2

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

**Chapter 2**

**Cassian**

The ballroom stretched out before me, a dazzling spectacle of crystal chandeliers and swirling cigar smoke, the air thick with the heavy scent of ambition and power. Politicians, their faces beaming with false camaraderie, leaned in to kiss my ring, their laughter echoing too loudly, as if they feared I might forget who had paved their golden paths tonight. The Carta family had finally crumbled, conceding the southeastern route, and every opportunist in the room was eager to stake their claim on this hard-won victory.

At my side, Reyna glimmered like a star in her silver dress, her smile perfectly crafted, a mask of confidence that belied the chaos swirling beneath the surface. She had been with me since I had yanked her off that jet earlier in the day. I knew my grandfather would not approve of her presence, but the truth was, whether in my legitimate enterprises or my darker dealings, everything seemed to flow more smoothly with Reyna beside me. She was a constant, a familiar presence that offered a sense of safety amidst the storm of my life.

As I navigated through the crowd, reveling in the moment, Liam—my trusted second, my brother in all but blood—leaned in closer, his voice a low murmur that sliced through the symphony of laughter and music.

“Boss,” he began, his tone urgent and laced with tension. “About that plane we lost last week? The one the Carta bastards sabotaged?”

“Yeah?” I replied, my curiosity piqued.

“Gemma was on it.”

The glass I had been raising to my lips froze in mid-air, my heart slamming against my chest.

The laughter, the crystal clinking, the elegant strains of the string quartet—all of it faded into a dull roar, as if I had been submerged underwater.

“What the hell did you just say?” The words escaped my lips, laced with disbelief and rising fury.

Liam remained unfazed, his gaze steady. “The flight crew manifest came back clean this morning. She was listed as auxiliary staff. Survived with the rest. Minor injuries. She’s been home for three days.”

Three days.

Three days, and no one had bothered to inform me that my own wife had been aboard a plane that someone had tried to obliterate from the sky.

Reyna’s grip tightened on my sleeve, her voice a whisper that cut through my spiraling thoughts. “Cassian?”

I felt a surge of anger and guilt crash over me like a tidal wave. I had explicitly forbidden her from boarding any planes. Being my wife was a perilous existence in itself; I had vowed never to place her in the line of fire again.

Reyna hesitated, her eyes searching mine before she leaned in closer, her voice barely audible. “Cassian, what if it wasn’t an accident? What if Gemma orchestrated this? She’s cunning enough to convince anyone. If she found a way onto that manifest, it wasn’t by chance. You know how she operates.”

My jaw clenched so tightly it felt as if it might shatter. Damn it. I hadn’t even considered that possibility.

Deep down, I knew Reyna was onto something.

Gemma had been itching to get closer to my world for years. Her beauty was a weapon, capable of bending the will of any man—and most women—to her desires.

The thought of what could have happened to her made my blood run cold. If anything had gone wrong, if I discovered that someone within my ranks had dared to lay a finger on my wife, I would make them pay. No contract would save them from my wrath—Gemma was mine, and I would protect what was mine at all costs.

The part of me that was struggling to drown in whiskey was suddenly thrust aside by a primal need for action.

Keys. Coat. The startled expressions of my men as I stormed through the crowd, slicing my way toward the exit.

“Cassian!” Reyna called after me, but I didn’t look back.

The drive home became a blur of red lights and the screech of tires against asphalt.

I told myself I was furious.

I told myself I would confront her, put her in her place at last.

But beneath that façade of anger lay a gnawing fear. What if she wasn’t okay? What if the crash had left her more damaged than I could imagine? What if she was hurt, unconscious, or—God forbid—worse?

When I arrived home, the darkness enveloped me like a shroud. Not a single light flickered in the house.

That was unusual.

The air was thick with that maddening scent that was uniquely hers—the one I pretended not to notice, yet it always left me feeling both aroused and frustrated—mingled with the faint remnants of whatever she had prepared for dinner.

“Gemma!” I called, my voice echoing in the silence.

I flung the bathroom door open, and there she was, startled, her eyes wide with surprise. The emerald dress she wore was half-off, pooling at her waist, leaving one creamy shoulder and a delicate arm exposed, a hint of black lace peeking beneath. For a fleeting moment, the only thought that consumed me was the possessive certainty that she was mine.

*****

**Gemma**

In that instant, Cassian kissed me for the first time.

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