The Don Tore Up Our Divorce (Gemma and Cassian) novel Chapter 231

**TITLE: Before Rain Touches Earth Memories Return With Gentle Warmth by Eli Dane Crest 231**

**Chapter 231**

**Cassian’s POV**

The journey to the office feels fleeting, yet an unsettling wave of nausea lingers in my stomach. Perhaps it’s the remnants of last night’s indulgences still swirling in my mind, or maybe it’s the foreboding sense of what awaits me today.

As I push open the door to the office, I spot a figure waiting for me. A stocky man, his hair neatly combed, is dressed in a suit that strains against his rounded torso. He looks like he’s been caught in a moment of anxious anticipation.

“Mr. Blackwell, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you!” Jody Thatcher exclaims, practically stumbling over his own feet as he rises to greet me.

His enthusiasm is palpable, almost overwhelming, as if he has been counting down the days to this encounter. I extend my hand, keeping my demeanor steady.

“Mr. Thatcher.”

He seizes my hand with both of his, shaking it vigorously, as if he’s clinging to a lifeline. “If there’s anything you need, please don’t hesitate to ask. I’m here to help in any way I can!”

I settle into the chair across from him, noting the slight tremor in his body. It’s clear he’s accustomed to a different kind of interaction, but I have no patience for theatrics.

“Have you arranged the meeting?” I inquire, cutting straight to the point.

“Yes, yes! This afternoon, just as you requested.” He swallows hard, his handkerchief appearing as he dabs at the perspiration forming on his forehead. “I… I wasn’t quite sure what to say when Moonlight arrives. Perhaps you could offer some guidance?”

I reach into my jacket pocket, retrieving a pen and placing it deliberately on the table between us. It’s more than just a writing instrument, but he’ll soon come to understand that. Next, I slide a small black camera beside it, its presence heavy with implication.

“Don’t concern yourself with what to say; that’s not what matters. Just listen, and remember to keep these items on you at all times.”

His eyes widen, flicking nervously between the pen and the camera. “A recording…?”

I maintain eye contact, unyielding. “I want everything documented. Every word, every gesture.”

He hesitates, his hands twitching as if caught in a web of uncertainty. “Mr. Blackwell, won’t this… disturb them?”

“Moonlight has already revealed his intentions once,” I reply calmly. “I won’t allow him the opportunity to blindside me again. You’ll do as I instruct.”

Jody nods vigorously, his thick neck wobbling with the motion. “Understood. Absolutely. You can count on me.”

Leaning back in my chair, I take a moment to observe him. He’s the type who bends with the breeze, adaptable, which makes him suitable for this role—provided he remembers who controls the winds.

“Good,” I say finally, my voice steady. “Maintain your composure when she arrives. Don’t attempt to impress her or engage in arguments. Just let her speak. The more she talks, the clearer our understanding will be.”

He clasps his hands together, a schoolboy’s eagerness radiating from him. “Yes, Mr. Blackwell. I’ll do just that.”

I rise, straightening my jacket with a practiced motion.

“I’ll be nearby,” I add in a tone low enough to draw him in. “You won’t see me, but I’ll be observing everything.”

“Then… I won’t let you down.”

With a single nod, I make my way to the door, already anticipating the unfolding events.

Behind me, I hear him exhale, a long, shaky breath as if he has just weathered a tempest. Little does he know, the storm is only just beginning.

**Semma’s POV**

The air hangs thick with the scent of polished oak and the lingering aroma of fine wine, yet I can’t shake the feeling of being an outsider in this lavish setting.

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