The Don Tore Up Our Divorce (Gemma and Cassian) novel Chapter 213

**Before Rain Touches Earth Memories Return With Gentle Warmth by Eli Dane Crest**
**Chapter 213**

**Mikhail’s POV**

As soon as Gemma’s paperwork is finalized and dispatched to HR, I feel an overwhelming urge to escape the confines of the office. My sole purpose for being here has been fulfilled, and I have zero desire to stick around and occupy a desk. The sterile atmosphere of the office feels suffocating; I need to breathe.

I grab my jacket, feeling the familiar weight settle on my shoulders, and make a beeline for the shooting range, dialing Liam’s number as I stride purposefully down the hall.

“Hey, Liam! Can you meet me at the range in fifteen?” I ask, my voice steady and confident.

“Absolutely,” he replies, his tone casual yet intrigued.

With each step, I toss my pistol into the air, catching it effortlessly with one hand. The sensation is exhilarating, almost like a homecoming. The range is where I feel most alive, where the chaos of the outside world fades away.

When I arrive, I spot Liam already lounging against the partition, his sunglasses perched jauntily atop his head. He flashes a grin that radiates warmth, a stark contrast to the office’s cold formality.

“You just got back from Nassau, and you’re already here? Don’t tell me you’re planning to shoot more bullets than you’ve already fired in your lifetime! I thought you were going to embrace a more stable career path now,” he teases, his eyes glinting with mischief.

I chuckle, slipping into my protective gear with a smirk. “I think someone’s been misinformed about my intentions.”

I take my position, line up my shot, and fire. The bullet pierces the bullseye with a satisfying thunk.

“I’ll be back in the mafia’s fold sooner or later. It’s wise to stay sharp until then,” I declare, the thrill of the shot igniting my spirit.

Liam shakes his head, a bemused expression on his face. “I heard your dad is pulling out all the stops to keep you under control?”

I scoff, reloading my pistol with practiced ease. “Did you catch wind of his latest scheme? He’s actually hired a babysitter to keep tabs on me.”

Liam bursts into laughter, the sound echoing off the walls of the range. “A housekeeper for his rebellious son? You’ve got to be kidding me! So, where have you hidden her? Come on, spill the beans!”

I roll my eyes, the corners of my mouth lifting in a smirk. “As if anyone could truly keep me in check. He thinks she’s going to monitor my every move and report back to him. Honestly, I think he’s fallen for some sort of scam. His so-called trusted housekeeper is probably still wandering around HR, utterly lost.”

Each shot I take lands perfectly, and Liam can’t contain his amusement. “You’re serious? He actually sent a woman to spy on you? What’s she like?”

I take a moment to consider my response, raising the gun again, aiming with precision. “She’s got a pretty face and a sharp tongue. Honestly, that’s about it. I don’t see her as a threat.”

Just then, I hear a commanding voice cut through the air. “Mr. Voloshin!”

My finger twitches, and the bullet veers off course, hitting the edge of the target instead of the center. What the hell? Is she really here?

I turn to see Gemma striding toward me, her footsteps firm and authoritative against the concrete floor, reminiscent of a drill sergeant on a mission.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” she demands, her tone leaving no room for argument.

I raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “I don’t know, is that why you’ve come here?”

“No, I’m here to inform you that it’s not your lunch break yet. You need to return to the company immediately.”

So, she really tracked me down? I can’t help but let out a low chuckle as I fully turn to face her. “Well, well, the nanny has successfully located me. Perhaps my dad isn’t as poor at reading people as I once thought. But tell me, Miss Housekeeper!”

I arch my eyebrows, knowing that the title will irk her.

“What are you actually going to do if I refuse?” I lean against the counter, challenging her, anticipating a flurry of angry words or a dramatic exit.

Instead, she pulls out her phone, holding it up with a sense of triumph. A few lines of code illuminate the screen, and my amusement dissipates as she begins to speak.

“I’ve hacked into your system, and this right here is the control panel. With a single tap, every bank card you own will be frozen. Instantly.”

I narrow my eyes, skepticism creeping in. “You’re bluffing.”

“Try me!” she replies with a casual shrug. “Mr. Smith himself approved this. Even if you run to the board in tears, it won’t matter. Step out of line again, and your accounts will vanish.”

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