The Don Tore Up Our Divorce (Gemma and Cassian) novel Chapter 29

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

**Chapter 29**

Gemma

Cassian strides toward his car with a determined gait, his expression set like stone. He opens the door with a forceful shove, slamming it shut behind him, and drives off into the distance, leaving a cloud of dust in his wake.

I remain rooted to the spot, my heart racing as I process the whirlwind of emotions swirling within me. Did that really just happen? Did I genuinely receive what I have longed for?

Yet, a wave of nausea washes over me, unsettling my stomach. Why do I feel this way?

With a sense of detachment, I make my way to my own vehicle. The drive back to Zina’s apartment is a blur; I can’t recall a single moment of it, yet somehow, I find myself parked outside her building.

As I step through the door, Zina looks up from her chair, her eyes widening in surprise. She’s transformed her hair once again, this time into a vibrant neon lilac purple that seems to radiate energy.

Without hesitation, she closes her laptop and leaps from her seat, rushing toward me with concern etched on her face. “You look terrible! Did something happen? Are you okay?”

“I saw Cassian again,” I reply, the words tumbling out before I can second-guess myself. “He showed up while I was visiting my mom.”

“Did he hurt you? Did he put his hands on you? I swear—”

“No!” I interrupt, raising my hands defensively as if to ward off her impending threat of violence. “He said he’d give me the divorce. We’re meeting at the courthouse on Monday.”

“Oh.” Zina’s expression shifts from alarm to elation, a bright smile spreading across her face. “That’s fantastic!” But then her brows knit together, a hint of suspicion creeping into her tone. “So why do you look like that? Don’t you think it’s good news?”

“Of course, I do!” I respond quickly, my voice a little too high-pitched. “This is everything I’ve wanted since Reyna re-entered his life.”

Zina raises her eyebrows, an encouraging grin returning to her features. “Then be happy! You get to move on! Speaking of which, come on. I’ll pour us some celebratory wine, and then I have something important to discuss with you.”

I allow Zina to guide me into more comfortable clothing, the soft fabric easing the tension in my shoulders. She pours a generous glass of wine, and I sink into the couch, positioning myself close to her chair, seeking comfort in her presence.

With a flick of her wrist, Zina opens her laptop and turns it toward me.

“Look at this,” she says, her voice tinged with excitement. “Adrian Blackwell caught that mole, but they refused to disclose who hired them, and then—poof! They vanished without a trace. It’s the kind of disappearance only powerful people can orchestrate. This is the data we pulled from the mole’s computer.”

“Adrian wants us to track where the mole was sending the intel, doesn’t he?” I ask, instinctively reaching for Zina’s laptop.

It’s surreal to think that just the other night, I sat across the dinner table from Adrian, and he had no inkling that I was the hacker behind the scenes.

But then my thoughts drift back to Cassian, and an unsettling worry twists in my stomach. What if the mole was harmed or worse for failing to deliver?

In the world of the mafia, such outcomes are all too plausible.

If they are dead… does that make me complicit in their fate?

Zina hands the laptop over to me, her expression serious. “Yes, he wants us to track where the intel was being sent. So far, everything points to Blackwell Industries.”

“Alright,” I say, steeling myself. “Package the data and send it to Adrian.”

I pass the laptop back to Zina, but she hesitates, her expression shifting. “You’re really willing to let Cassian face the consequences of this? Even if their enemies don’t find out, it could create a rift within their family.”

“Yeah,” I reply firmly. “He did it, and I’m not his wife anymore.” Not in spirit, anyway. “I’m not going to cover for him.”

“Alright then, you’re the boss,” Zina concedes, her fingers dancing over the keyboard.

With a few swift taps, the information is dispatched to Adrian.

I resolve not to feel guilty. After all, Adrian is my client, not Cassian. And I stand by my conviction: I am no longer Cassian’s wife. I will not shield him from the consequences of his actions.

Rising from the couch, I shake off my lingering doubts. “Any more clients lined up for Moonlight?” I inquire, my mind already racing ahead.

Once my divorce is finalized on Monday, I’ll be solely responsible for my finances. If I want to purchase a home and build a life of my own, I need to get moving and start earning.

“Not yet,” Zina replies, her optimism unwavering. “But leave it to me. Once word spreads that you’re taking jobs again, we’ll be inundated with more work than we can handle.”

She taps a few more keys, then adds casually, “Oh, and that apartment we liked is still available. If you’re going to be an independent woman, it’s time you get your own place.”

There’s something in her tone that strikes me as odd, and I can’t help but wonder…

Does Zina have some hidden agenda behind suggesting this new place for me to live?