The Don Tore Up Our Divorce (Gemma and Cassian) novel Chapter 226

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

**Chapter 226**

**Cassian’s POV**

The question posed is deceptively simple, almost too innocent for my taste. It feels as if we are merely a group of adolescents, clumsily attempting to impress our crushes, as if this moment were a high school game rather than a gathering of adults.

Yet, despite my attempts to maintain a façade of indifference, I find myself struggling to draw a breath, the air feeling thick and heavy in my lungs.

A palpable tension envelops the room, transforming it into a charged silence, all eyes gravitating toward her. Each passing second stretches the moment, making it increasingly difficult to uphold my composure.

Finally, she parts her lips, and the word escapes her mouth. “No.”

I force my expression to remain neutral, but I can feel the stem of my glass creaking under the pressure of my grip. A searing sense of betrayal ignites within my chest. She could have chosen to drink instead, or even laughed it off, but instead, she delivers her rejection with a clean finality that silences the surrounding chatter, leaving only the echo of her refusal hanging in the air.

I refuse to look away from her, my gaze locked onto her elegant neck, tracing the delicate curve of her smile that fails to reach her eyes, a stark contrast to the warmth of the moment.

I wait, hoping for a flicker of uncertainty, a glance in my direction, but she remains resolute, her focus unwavering.

**17:57**

The bottle spins again, and this time it points directly at me.

I draw in a steadying breath and place my glass down with a deliberate motion. “Truth.”

**+44 Bonus**

Mikhail’s lips curve into a smirk as he eagerly volunteers to pose the next question. This man seems to revel in my discomfort far too much for my liking.

“Same question! Do you like anyone here tonight?”

A ripple of anticipation courses through the group, as if they’ve all been holding their breath, waiting for my response. Liam’s gaze flickers nervously between me and Gemma, and I can feel my fists clenching tightly beneath the table.

What does it mean that she can sit there in that stunning dress, next to another man, and so effortlessly deny me? What does it signify that her indifference cuts deeper than any blatant insult could?

I’ve been distant with her, yes, perhaps even cold, but she has never truly left my thoughts. The mere notion of her with someone else gnaws at my insides, tearing through my carefully constructed control. This is not a trivial matter.

I lift my chin, meeting Voloshin’s gaze with defiance. “Yes.”

The word hangs in the air, thick and laden with meaning.

A few gasps ripple through the table, and I catch Liam’s eyebrows shooting up in surprise, his amusement faltering momentarily.

**2/6**

Reyna stiffens beside me, her hand tightening around her glass, her expression unreadable. It’s that same indifferent mask she wears when she seeks to inflict the most pain. She neither smiles nor frowns; she simply regards me with a calmness that suggests my admission is of no consequence to her.

For reasons I cannot fully comprehend, a wave of anger surges through me once more.

If she had laughed, if she had reacted in any way other than this cold silence, I might have found a reason to breathe.

Yet her stillness fuels a desperate urge within me, a desire to drag the truth from her lips, to force her to acknowledge that what exists between us is anything but insignificant in all the agonizing ways I can envision.

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