The Don Tore Up Our Divorce (Gemma and Cassian) novel Chapter 230

**TITLE: Before Rain Touches Earth Memories Return With Gentle Warmth by Eli Dane Crest 230**

**Chapter 230**

**Cassian’s POV**

A tight knot forms in my stomach, a sensation that I can’t quite decipher. Is it the remnants of last night’s alcohol still swirling in my system, or is it the gnawing anxiety of knowing she’s avoiding me again? I glance at Chloe, but I refrain from probing further. Deep down, I’m aware that she doesn’t possess any more information than I do.

Determined to force some food down, I pick at my breakfast, but each bite feels like a chore, a struggle against my own body. Just as I manage to swallow a mouthful, my phone vibrates on the table, the screen lighting up with Adam’s name.

I swipe to answer, my voice clipped. “Speak.”

“I found her,” he states bluntly, without any buildup. “The one who played you. Moonlight—I’ve got her location.”

A flicker of something that resembles hope stirs within me, but it doesn’t quite form a smile. Finally, the moment I’ve been waiting for!

“Text me the address,” I command, urgency lacing my tone.

“Are you sure about this?” Adam’s voice carries a note of caution. “Last time, she slipped through the cracks—”

“Last time, I let her slip,” I interrupt, my resolve hardening. “But it won’t happen again.”

There’s a brief pause before he replies, “I’ll be waitin’.”

With that, I set my phone down and push my plate away, the food untouched. I rise from the table, my mind racing with thoughts of what’s to come.

After a quick shower, I throw on a fresh outfit and stride towards the garage. Gemma’s Porsche sits there, looking smug and arrogant in its designated spot. The sight of it ignites a fire of frustration within me. That damn car serves as a constant reminder, a thorn in my side that I can’t seem to pluck out. I don’t care about how she acquired it; what infuriates me is that it wasn’t from me.

“Tom!” I call out, my voice echoing against the concrete walls.

He appears almost immediately, as if conjured by my command. “Yes, sir?”

“Order me a Maybach,” I instruct, my tone leaving no room for debate.

Tom blinks in surprise. “Sir, you already—”

“Yes, I know. Order me another one,” I cut him off, my irritation bubbling just beneath the surface.

“And I want it pink,” I add, watching as he hesitates for a fraction of a second before nodding.

“Understood.”

He knows exactly what my request implies, and I turn back to glare at the Porsche, my vision blurring slightly as the ache in my head intensifies.

Mine… always mine.

**Gemma’s POV**

I step into Zina’s villa, the air thick with the scent of detergent mixed with a distinctly masculine aroma. The atmosphere feels different from my last visit—less polished, more lived-in, as if it has absorbed the essence of its inhabitants. My gaze is immediately drawn to the balcony, where a pair of men’s boxers flutters in the breeze like a ridiculous flag of conquest.

I raise an eyebrow, a teasing smirk creeping onto my lips. “You seem to be living quite a wonderful life!”

Zina gasps, rushing over to yank the underwear down with both hands. “Oh, shut up! Don’t tease me.”

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify