The Don Tore Up Our Divorce (Gemma and Cassian) novel Chapter 261

Chapter 261

Cassian’s POV

I sit in the passenger seat of Liam’s car, flipping through contracts. Numbers and clauses blur together, but I force myself to focus.

Anything is better than replaying Gemma’s posts in my mind and falling into the rabbit hole.

Beside me, Liam whistles low. “Damn, check that out. That Porsche, it’s sleek as hell! Should’ve gotten myself one of those instead of this boring ride.”

I grunt absentmindedly, not even looking up.

He tries again. “Looks like a lady driver, too. And a guy in the passenger seat. Some rich woman keeping a sugar baby? Don’t mind if I apply for the job.”

I clench my jaw. Liam always acts like money’s short enough that he’ll sell his soul on a random Tuesday, even though his family is loaded.

Sometimes I wonder if he just enjoys irritating me.

“Ever think I could pull it off? Being the obedient pet to a sugar mama?”

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He chuckles at his own joke.

“Mind your own damn business, Liam.”

But he doesn’t stop, like he never does.

+2 Bonus

“Wait, wait, wait!” He suddenly slams the brakes a little, his eyes nearly popping out of his head. “Cassian! That’s Gemma! Gemma’s in the Porsche!”

The word hits me like a punch. My head jerks up before I can stop myself, and there she is. Her profile is framed by the window, copper red hair catching the light.

And next to her is Jace, making my blood boil. The light turns green. Liam signals left, but I bark, “Wait! We have to follow her.”

He glances at me, “What about Rhett? Weren’t we—”

“I said follow her!”

Gemma’s car surges forward, sleek and fast. She must have seen us. She presses the pedal, and my gut twists. She’s running from

1. me.

Liam mutters, “You seriously think this thing can catch a Porsche?”

“Just try to keep up.”

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We weave through traffic, but she stays out of our reach, her taillights flashing like taunts. My patience snaps when we pass a pair of police officers stationed at the corner.

“Pull over.”

“What-? Why! Isn’t it the police’s job to pull people over?”

Liam blinks, but does as he is told, after years of conditioning.

I ignore him and lower my window, catching the officer’s attention. “Excuse me, officer. That red Porsche ahead? I think the driver might be drunk.”

Liam’s head whips toward me. “You’re reporting your wife for drunk driving?”

“She’s not my wife.” I mumble at him, although the words taste

bitter.

The officer nods and waves us forward. Gemma has no choice but to stop, when they signal her down. I step out too, standing a little behind the cop, my pulse hammering.

She lowers her window slowly. The look on her face when she sees me–shock, fury, disbelief all rolled together—makes my

chest constrict.

“Ma’am, please cooperate. We had a report of possible drunk

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driving. I need you to take a breathalyzer test.”

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Gemma’s eyes cut to me, burning with the single question ‘are you crazy!?‘, and I almost flinch, but she doesn’t argue.

She just takes the test, and the device beeps, the display showing nothing over the limit.

The cop frowns at the result, then turns back to me. “Sir, she’s clean.”

Gemma rolls her window back up, not sparing me another glance. Her Porsche glides forward, leaving me in a cloud of exhaust.

If it weren’t for the officer standing between us, she would probably have flipped me off.

I stare after her until the taillights vanish, until I feel the anger poking through.

“Why did you let them go?”

I demand, turning on the officer.

“Because she wasn’t drunk. Sir, making false reports can get you in trouble, it will be better if you don’t waste our time again.”

He launches into a lecture that lasts far too long. By the time I storm back into the Rolls–Royce, my gums ache from grinding

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my teeth.

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Liam sits stiffly in the driver’s seat, lips pressed tight. He doesn’t even try to joke this time.

After a long while, Liam clears his throat. “So… should we just go find Rhett now?”

I don’t answer. My fists rest on my knees, knuckles white. I wanted to defend her, shield her, but she doesn’t need me. Worse… she doesn’t want me!

Rhett’s POV

I’ve been packing since this afternoon, shoving shirts into a suitcase with no real care. The longer I stay in this city, the more difficult it feels to escape.

In any case, I only stayed because of Reyna. Without her, I’d have left long ago.

And now, after that fallout with Cassian, I’m done! There is nothing here worth holding onto.

I pause, pick up my phone, and try calling Reyna again, but just then, the doorbell rings.

Ah, what a great sense of timing. She must have come here directly to explain, or maybe soothe things over.

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