The Don Tore Up Our Divorce (Gemma and Cassian) novel Chapter 283

Chapter 283

Rhett’s POV

The numbers on the spreadsheet blur together, a sea of red and black that tells a story I don’t want to read.

Twenty million- that’s what I’ve scraped together from every corner of my world.

It’s a fortune, and still, it’s not enough. The remaining 26 million gap feels like a bottomless pit, and I’m about to slip from yhe edges.

“Rhett, maybe… maybe you could borrow from your friends?” Reyna’s voice is a soft, worried whisper from the sofa. She’s been crying on and off for hours, and her distress is like a pain in my own chest.

“No!”

I say, too quickly. I can’t! The humiliation would be too great to handle. Asking Cassian for money after the scene in the cafe? After I proudly declared I would pay it? I’d rather die.

Asking Liam? He’d look at me with that knowing gaze and see right through me, and my pride, the one thing I have left, can’t withstand it.

I haven’t even told my family. I can’t go to my friends….

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A desperate, ugly thought surfaces. I hate myself for it, but I’m out of options. “Reyna, do you have any money left at all?” I already know she gave everything to her mother.

Her face crumples, “Rhett, I paid my mother’s debts with all the money I had.” Her voice breaks on a sob. “I really don’t have any money left at all.”

I get restless, I can’t bear her tears… they are my failure.

In any case, her pain is my pain.

“Don’t you cry,” I plead, crossing the room to kneel before her. “I’ll think of something else!” But my mind is a blank, terrified slate.

It’s Reyna who finds the way. She’s so much stronger, so much clearer in a crisis than I am. She looks at me, her beautiful eyes wide with a sudden, hopeful idea. “Rhett, don’t you have another house on the north side of the city?”

“That house…” I begin, my throat tight. It’s not just a house… it’s the only thing I own that isn’t part of the Whitaker legacy. It’s

mine.

She sees my hesitation and takes both my hands in hers. Her cool touch steadies me instantly. Her eyes, still glistening, lock with mine, holding me captive.

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“Rhett, I know that house is very important to you.”

Her voice is a tender caress. She understands, she really secs

1. me.

“But if you sell it now, you can still buy it back later. I promise you, I’ll find a way to help you buy the house back when we finish paying off this money. Okay?”

The promise is a vow for our future together… She’s not just asking me to sacrifice, she is promising to build our future together.

“Reyna, I don’t need you to help me buy the house…”

The practical problem resurfaces. “The time Cassian gave was only one day. That’s just too tight.”

The frustration bleeds into my voice, it’s unfair. Downright cruel!

But then, she does the most astonishing thing… she defends him. “It’s not really Cassian’s fault. It was Gemma who was angry. Cassian had no choice. Don’t blame him unnecessarily for that woman’s choices.”

I feel a bitter taste in my mouth after hearing Cassian’s name, but she’s my voice of forgiveness. I know she’s just preventing me from destroying a lifelong friendship over money. She’s right! The house is just wood and stone, but what we have is

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real.

“I’d better go sell the house first…

I say, the decision now feeling less like a loss and more like a necessary step for our future.

*****

Gemma’s POV

The notification chime on my phone is the most satisfying sound I’ve heard all week. I tap the screen, and there it is: the balance, fully restored. Forty–six million and fifty thousand dollars, not a single cent missing.

A moment later, a follow–up text arrives from an unknown number.

[The money has been paid back. I hope you won’t harrass Reyna again!]

I don’t need to save the contact. The self–righteous, simpering tone is signature Rhett.

I just shake my head, he’s such a nut. But the method doesn’t matter, the result does.

The money is back where it belongs.

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That evening, Cassian is home, and we’re attempting a civil, silent dinner when the peace is shattered by raised, angry voices from beyond our gate.

I try to ignore the commotion, focusing on my food, but the shouting only intensifies.

Cassian’s frown is one of pure annoyance. “Emma, go out and tell the people outside to be quiet” he commands, his voice tight.

“This is a high–end neighborhood. Don’t those people even have that much courtesy?”

Emma scurries to the door, but before she can even get a word out, the front door is thrust open. I look up, my eyes narrow in

recognition.

It’s Rhett’s parents, Hubert and Elisa Whitaker. I’ve only met them once, at my wedding, a brief, formal exchange… nothing like this tornado of entitlement and distress.

“Mr. Blackwell, what did Rhett ever do to offend you that you want us dead?” Hubert booms, his face a mottled red. “We know Rhett’s nature. He would never owe that much money!”

Elisa clutches her purse like a lifeline, her voice trembling. “Yes. Even if he owed you money, you can tell us, and we’ll find a way to pay it back. How could you let him sell that house in the north of the city?”

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They continue their frantic, overlapping, tirade, I watch Cassian’s face, seeing, the moment he pieces it all together.

47. BOTHE

“Mr. Whitaker, Mrs. Whitaker, it’s not what you think. That money is…” he tries, his voice a calm attempt to stem the tide.

But Hubert cuts him off, his anger overriding any semblance of reason. “Mr. Blackwell, Rhett has known you since college. Don’t you understand what kind of person he is? You’ve been friends for so many years, and the Blackwell family doesn’t lack those tens of millions of dollars. Why do you have to limit the deadline so tightly? Aren’t you forcing him to sell his house?”

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