The Don Tore Up Our Divorce (Gemma and Cassian) novel Chapter 21

**Before Rain Touches Earth Memories Return With Gentle Warmth by Eli Dane Crest**
**Chapter 21**

**Gemma**

As I descend the staircase, a servant approaches me, his expression a mix of respect and urgency. “Madam, Cassian has arrived,” he informs me, his voice barely above a whisper. “He’s currently in Donovan’s study discussing family matters.”

Family matters, he says. I can only speculate what that entails. Perhaps it concerns the recent sabotage of the plane, a serious breach that could affect our family’s operations. Or maybe it’s another family encroaching on their territory, eager to carve out a piece of the business pie.

Then again, it could be that Donovan is about to unleash his fury on Cassian for bringing Reyna back into the fold. Oh, how I would relish that.

But I quickly remind myself to halt those thoughts. After our divorce, none of this will hold any significance.

Yet, the fact that Cassian is with Donovan leaves me alone with the rest of the family, a situation that feels both daunting and liberating.

I shrug off the weight of their expectations, having resolved to stop caring about their opinions. I make my way to the formal sitting room, where the rest of the family has gathered, and settle onto the plush sofa.

The moment I sit down, the usual whispers begin anew, a cacophony of judgment and disdain. But one voice rises above the rest, cutting through the air like a knife.

“Nice dress. It almost makes you look like you’re good enough to be one of us.”

Adaline Blackwell, Cassian’s aunt, strides toward me with a smile that drips with venom. She’s in her early forties, strikingly beautiful like the rest of her family, but her allure is overshadowed by the malice lurking in her gaze.

In the past, I would have remained silent, allowing them to belittle me, to mold me into the dutiful wife they expected. I had longed for their approval, wanting them to see me as worthy of their son. In the world of the mafia, a wife is meant to be demure, a silent supporter of her powerful husband, always seen but never heard.

But that era has come to a close. I refuse to be the meek little lamb they envision me to be.

“The person makes the clothes, Adaline, not the other way around. That’s probably why your dresses all look so cheap.”

The room falls into a stunned silence. Adaline’s expression shifts to one of disbelief, and I can almost hear the gears turning in her mind as she processes my unexpected retort.

I used to hate that I had allowed them to shape me into something small and inconsequential. I had hoped against hope that one day they would see me as enough.

But those days are behind me.

Instead of responding to my jab, Adaline straightens her posture, readying herself for another round of insults. “I heard Reyna has returned. I do hope Cassian brings her by for a visit. It’s been ages since he introduced anyone interesting to the family.”

I return her venomous smile, matching her wickedness with my own. “You know, it’s fascinating that you would mention children.”

I pivot to Adaline. “You haven’t had any yet, have you? You should be cautious if you’re still considering it, Adaline. I’ve heard it can be risky for women of your… advanced age.”

Before she can recover, I shift my focus to Sibille. “And you’re right to be concerned about who’s truly contributing to the family. I heard your latest business venture fell through, just like the one before it.”

I tap my lips, pretending to think. “Managing businesses can be tricky, can’t it? Perhaps you should consult Cassian for advice. He has a knack for these matters, you know. It would be dreadful if you lost the Blackwell family any more money.”

Sibille’s mouth drops open in shock, and I can see I’ve struck a nerve.

She’s supposed to oversee one of the legitimate businesses that help launder money, but her insatiable greed leads her to dabble in darker dealings—blackmail, fraud, skimming funds.

Unlike Cassian, she lacks the finesse to navigate these treacherous waters. Each time she reaches for more, she comes perilously close to being caught.

The police have even interrogated her recently, and if it weren’t for the Blackwell family’s near-immunity and their grip on law enforcement, she might very well be behind bars right now.

In my delight at finally pushing back against these harpies, I fail to notice that the room has descended into an oppressive silence, the air thick with tension.