The Don Tore Up Our Divorce (Gemma and Cassian) novel Chapter 206

**Before Rain Touches Earth Memories Return With Gentle Warmth by Eli Dane Crest 206**

**Chapter 206**

**Gemma’s POV**

The morning air envelops us, thick with the briny scent of the ocean mingling with the sweet fragrance of blooming hibiscus flowers. Zina and I stroll back from a hearty breakfast, and all I can think about is retreating to the comfort of my hotel room, sinking back into the soft embrace of my bed.

Suddenly, a flash of black darts into my peripheral vision. I turn instinctively to my right and spot Cassian emerging from the hotel’s revolving door. His focus is unwavering, his eyes locked straight ahead, as if he’s on a mission that demands every ounce of his attention.

He strides forward with urgency, his coat billowing behind him like a dark cloud ready to unleash a storm. The expression on his face is as ominous as the weather, a clear indication that something is amiss.

Zina halts abruptly, her eyes widening with realization. “Gemma, look at him! He’s definitely going to see Reyna, isn’t he?”

Skepticism washes over me as I glance at her. “And what exactly makes you so certain of that?”

Zina rolls her eyes, exasperated. “Come on! Stop arguing and get on my side. This is a golden opportunity! We could—”

She gestures animatedly, as if painting a vivid picture of the scandalous scene she imagines unfolding.

“We can catch him red-handed! Just think of the leverage you’ll have in court. He won’t be able to say a word in front of you again. Gemma, don’t let him slip away with this!”

I frown, weighing her words. “You really want me to follow him based solely on what you think he might be doing?”

She nudges me playfully, misinterpreting my sarcasm for genuine hesitation. “Exactly! If you don’t, I will. Don’t pretend you’re not curious.”

With a reluctant sigh, I concede. “I swear, Zina, if this turns out to be nothing but your wild imagination…”

Her grin widens as she points toward a nearby taxi. “I’ll take full responsibility! Now, let’s go!”

Before I can reconsider, she grabs my wrist with a grip that feels almost ironclad and drags me toward the taxi stand.

“Sir,” she breathlessly instructs the driver, “follow that car. Please, it’s a matter of saving a family!”

Slumping into the backseat, exhaustion washes over me like a wave. “Zina, this is absurd. We should just go back—”

“Are you kidding? You didn’t screenshot those posts. This is our chance, and we can’t let it slip through our fingers!”

The cab rolls to a stop outside the police station, and Zina’s eyes sparkle with excitement. “Finally…”

We slip inside, careful to remain inconspicuous. My stomach twists into knots as I spot Cassian. He stands close to Reyna, who is huddled on a bench, wrapped tightly in a coarse grey blanket. She appears so small, so utterly fragile, her hair a wild mess that clings to Cassian’s arm as if he is her lifeline.

Nearby, a man sits handcuffed, glaring at the floor, a picture of defeat. Reyna is trembling visibly, and when a police officer leads the sullen man past her, she flinches violently, scrambling backward with a terrified whimper.

“Back off!” she cries weakly, her voice cracking under the weight of her fear.

Cassian immediately steps in front of her, shielding her from the retreating officer. “What happened?” he demands, his voice low and intense.

One of the officers quickly explains that last night, on her way to a new hotel, Reyna was dragged into an alley, robbed, and nearly assaulted. A passerby heard her screams and fortunately intervened just in time.

Cassian’s head snaps up, his eyes darting to mine before shifting to Zina. Annoyance flickers across his features, but he holds his tongue, redirecting his attention back to Reyna, who has begun sobbing uncontrollably.

Something inside me snaps; Zina is right. This is evidence—concrete, undeniable proof of his priorities. A part of me knows this is my moment. I pull out my phone again. The flash is off, but the shutter sound echoes in the hushed room. Click. Click. Click!

“Gemma! What are you doing?” Zina hisses, her voice a mix of panic and excitement.

I take a dozen more photos before lowering my phone.

“Documenting your profound love for Reyna! It’s a sweet little love story of childhood sweethearts. I believe it will go viral!”

“But why? Is there a problem?”

“Do you have to be so ill-mannered—”

“Excuse me? What do you mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean. Have some decency.”

His patience snaps, and the anger radiating from him is palpable, yet he fails to see the hypocrisy in his own outrage.

“If you think so little of me,” I shoot back, “why don’t you just divorce me? I’ve been asking for months. Let’s both be free. You won’t have to deal with my ‘ill-mannered’ self ever again, I assure you!”

The words hang in the charged air, and for a long moment, he remains silent, conflict raging in his eyes, battling against the fury he struggles to contain.