The Don Tore Up Our Divorce (Gemma and Cassian) novel Chapter 259

**TITLE: Before Rain Touches Earth Memories Return With Gentle Warmth by Eli Dane Crest 259**

**Chapter 259**

**Gemma’s POV**

“What about the note?” I press, unwilling to let the matter fade away without further discussion.

My fingers are balled into tight fists, yet I don’t release them. “You know Reyna penned it, igniting a cascade of articles that led us here. Are you still going to insist she’s merely a friend?”

Cassian releases a slow, deliberate breath, his jaw clenched tightly, a clear sign of his internal struggle.

Leaving such an enigmatic note in a bustling place like the airport, and then claiming it reached him by chance… anyone who witnessed it would find it hard to believe it was anything but intentional. The image of that note haunts me, the familiar handwriting dancing in my mind like a mocking ghost.

He draws in a deep breath, trying to steady himself. “Gemma, I will explain everything clearly. I refuse to let her disrupt our lives again.”

“You don’t need to do that,” I counter, my voice steady but my heart racing. “Just tell her to hold on a little longer. In a year, after the divorce, she can have you all to herself. But if she keeps stirring up trouble and making us look bad, I won’t just sit back and watch.”

I deliver my words with a lightness that belies the raging fire inside me. Does he truly believe that a simple explanation can unravel years of torment?

“Gemma, I never felt anything for Reyna, I swear!” he implores, desperation seeping into his tone.

I fix my gaze on him, searching for sincerity in his eyes.

“If promises were the true measure of trust, what a different world it would be! Anyone who makes a false promise would surely be struck down by lightning… but alas, life isn’t so simple.”

His lips press into a thin line, and for a fleeting moment, I catch a glimpse of vulnerability in his eyes, as if he’s grappling with how to mend the fractures in my heart. Can it even be mended?

He looks away, a soft sigh escaping his lips. “I’ll have the driver take you home; I’ll handle everything here. Don’t let what my aunt and the others said affect you.”

But instead of returning to Oakhaven, I instruct the driver to take me elsewhere. My thoughts are a whirlwind, too chaotic for me to go back and sit in silence.

Inside Zina’s apartment, the ambiance is dim, with only the glow from Molly’s laptop illuminating the room.

“How’s it going?” I ask, slipping off my coat and sinking into a chair beside them.

I manage a smile, though it carries no real joy. I nod, pull out my own laptop, and begin typing. “Good. That’s enough to start.”

The files spring open before me: years of news articles, screenshots, and old contracts I had never managed to erase. Every document, every fragment of truth that had been dismissed back then.

Zina leans closer, her voice a whisper. “Dream International has sent a legal notice, clarifying that your relationship with them is merely cooperative. If the defamation persists, they’ll take action to terminate the contract. I’m sorry, babe—”

“Don’t be!” I let out a soft laugh, shaking my head. “Reyna must be thrilled right now.”

The internet is still ablaze with venomous insults. ‘Dirty liar’, ‘two-timing slut’, ‘shameless woman’, ‘the one who tore apart two lovers’… they don’t care about the truth; they just want to vilify.

And Reyna, the so-called first love who left that absurd note, continues to be hailed as pure, pitiful, and noble.

I scroll through the vitriol, my fingers trembling slightly as I begin drafting my own post.

The cursor blinks on the screen, waiting for my next move as I crack my knuckles and dive back in. “Reyna, let’s see how you spin this lie now.”

The follow-up comes swiftly. “So, Mr. Blackwell, are you admitting that Reyna, your partner at Blackwell, along with her mother, are indeed the ‘other women’ mentioned in your wife’s post online?”

What the hell—!

My jaw tightens, but I maintain a professional tone. “Today’s press conference is to clarify that the rumors circulating about my wife are false. As for Ms. Holloway, I don’t have much insight into her personal life. Our relationship is strictly professional.”

My patience wears thin. “You can ask my cousin about the video; I don’t have the details! Like I said, I’m here today to defend my wife.”

I’ve never been fond of the spotlight. Over the past three years of managing the headquarters, I’ve evaded every interview.

But this is different… for Gemma, I’ll endure this as long as necessary.

The barrage of questions continues, yet my responses remain unchanged. When security finally ushers me off the stage, I retreat to a quiet backroom and immediately turn to Adam.

“What did Gemma tweet!? And why wasn’t I informed about it?”

He fumbles with his phone before handing it over. “Blackwell… I didn’t expect Mrs. Blackwell to tweet at this moment. It was mere seconds before the press conference was scheduled. I was tied up outside, I didn’t—”

I cut him off, scrolling through the content. The evidence hits me like a punch: photos, contracts, comparisons exposing Reyna, all narrated with clarity.

Damn. This is what Reyna has been scheming behind my back? My mind races through the memories of every event mentioned in her post, and I feel an overwhelming sense of guilt wash over me with each passing second.

Where do we go from here?

I don’t respond immediately. My reflection in the mirror looks unfamiliar. This time, I don’t know the answer myself.