The Don Tore Up Our Divorce (Gemma and Cassian) novel Chapter 254

**TITLE: Before Rain Touches Earth Memories Return With Gentle Warmth by Eli Dane Crest 254**

**Chapter 254**

**Gemma’s POV**

Jace and Molly exchange bewildered looks, their expressions mirroring each other in a way that makes it almost comical. Then, in perfect unison, they both exclaim, “What trending topic?” Their voices blend together like a symphony of confusion, amplifying the tension in the air.

Zina stands there, arms crossed tightly over her chest, her face a mask of smug satisfaction that screams, ‘I knew it!’

“Of course you didn’t tell them…” she says, shaking her head in disbelief.

With a swift motion, she pulls out her phone and spins the screen toward us, as if revealing a shocking secret.

At the very pinnacle of the Internet’s Top trending searches, my name blares ominously. The hashtags cut like shards of glass: #MrsBlackwellExposed #GoldDigger #Cheating.

An icy knot tightens in my stomach, twisting and turning as I take in the implications of it all.

Molly leans closer, her eyes widening in horror as she hovers over Jace’s shoulder, scrolling through the comments.

“Oh my god!” she gasps, her voice barely above a whisper, but the shock is palpable.

The comments cascade down the screen like a relentless torrent of venom.

“Poor Mr. Blackwell, humiliated like this.”

“First loves are always the ones who get hurt the most…”

They label me a gold digger, a home-wrecker, hurling vulgar insults that sting like a swarm of angry bees. Someone has even compiled a photo collage of me with Jace and Mikhail, the images cropped and captioned as if presenting damning evidence before a jury.

I force myself to maintain a calm exterior; I’ve learned that exposing pain only invites more vultures to circle.

Jace’s gaze is locked onto mine, as if he can see the turmoil brewing beneath my composed facade. Molly, on the other hand, is furiously tapping at the screen, her cheeks flushed with indignation. “This is insane! Look at how fake these accounts are! They were all created just last week.”

Zina inhales sharply, her eyes blazing with concern. “Gemma, they are tearing you apart! They’re saying you’ve slept with half the city for a night’s money. Someone even posted a bank statement asking if it was for a night with you.”

Molly slams her palms down on her knees, her frustration palpable. “We can trace them! I can find out who—”

I let out a dry laugh, the sound devoid of humor. “I already know who.”

Zina’s head snaps toward me, her eyebrows knitting together in realization. “Reyna?”

“Of course, it’s Reyna,” I reply, the bitterness in my voice unmistakable.

“She always wanted to be the victim or the martyr, whatever gets her the most attention,” I add, frustration simmering just beneath the surface.

Zina’s fist comes down hard on the coffee table, the unexpected noise making Molly jump in surprise. “That snake! You’re letting me take her down this time, right? I’m going to tear her apart so thoroughly she’ll wish she never learned how to use a keyboard!”

Molly straightens in her seat, her voice small yet resolute. “I… I can go find out who leaked the photos.”

I turn to her, narrowing my eyes in scrutiny. “Can you?”

She nods vigorously, her determination shining through. “Yes! They’re often careless. If I dig a little, I can trace which outlet was paid first. That’ll give us a lead. If it’s Reyna’s people or an account linked to her, we can obtain timestamps and IP traces—”

“Do it,” I command, my tone leaving no room for argument.

I don’t want their sympathy, nor do I seek explanations—I crave action. Zina’s fierce anger fills me with a sense of steadiness; it’s easier to breathe when you have someone ready to fight at your side.

“And welcome to the team, Rizzster,” I add, a smirk breaking through my grim demeanor.

Molly beams, the anxiety in her eyes transforming into fierce pride, a glimmer of hope amidst the chaos.

Zina snatches her phone back, muttering curses under her breath as she begins typing furiously, her fingers flying across the screen like a pianist in a frantic performance.

Jace tilts his head, studying my reaction intently. “You’re not angry?”

I meet his gaze with a steady resolve. “Anger is for those who are caught off guard… I prefer to strategize.”

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