The Don Tore Up Our Divorce (Gemma and Cassian) novel Chapter 297

Gemma’s POV

I stare at Zina, my mind refusing to process what she’s just said. “Zina, that’s… he’s a generation older than you.”

A bitter, helpless laugh escapes her.

“You know my father. Business alliances are the only alliances that matter to him. A direct tie to the Hartley family? It would be a golden ticket. Our family would be set for the next two decades.”

She says it like she’s reciting a business proposal.

“But he’s practically your father’s contemporary!”

“Tell me about it,” she sighs, slumping back in her chair. “He doesn’t see me as a daughter, more like a strategic asset. Why do you think I live alone at the villa? It’s my escape. I can’t stand being in that house, watching him calculate my value on the marriage market.”

I remember meeting her father in college, a stern, unsmiling man in a perpetually crisp suit. He was always formal with Zina, providing everything material she could ever want, a blank check for a life of luxury, and would dispatch lawyers and fixers at the first sign of any real trouble.

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But this… this was different. Selling her future to secure his legacy…?

Suddenly, the rumor Cassian mentioned at the Opal Group press conference slams into me with full force. ‘Peter has recently chosen someone twenty years younger‘.

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The anonymous, whispered–about young woman was Zina all along!? The pieces click into a horrifying picture.

“Zina, listen to me, you cannot make a life–altering decision like marriage out of panic. This isn’t sensible.”

Even if she feels backed into a corner, marrying a virtual stranger, let alone a man like Peter Hartley, is not the answer.

“I know that!” she exclaims, her frustration bubbling over. “Of course I know that! I admit, my initial interest in William was because he was stable, successful, respectable… a ‘suitable‘ candidate I could present to my father to get him off my back. But… after spending a little time with him, I’ve realized he’s actually… he’s kind. And he’s passionate about something real. It’s not just an act anymore.”

I fall silent, studying her. The calculation in her eyes is now mixed with a warm and hopeful feeling. She’s in a terrible

position, caught between her father’s cold ambition and the faint possibility of a real connection.

She needs to think, not just react.

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With William gone, our reason for being here also evaporates.

We make our way toward the main exit, the sounds of the exhibition fading behind us. And that’s when I see Cassian.

He’s walking toward the entrance, flanked by a small entourage that includes Grandpa and Natalie. This event is a Blackwell family production; his presence is inevitable.

My steps falter, but it’s too late.

Grandpa’s sharp eyes land on me, and his face breaks into a genuine, grandfatherly smile.

“Gemma! You’re here!”

He booms, effectively cutting off my escape route. I force a smile, glancing at Zina and giving a slight, almost imperceptible nod. ‘Go, I’ll handle this.‘

She shoots me a look of pure sympathy before melting back into the crowd.

Cassian’s gaze meets mine, and I see a flicker of surprise, followed by what looks like, approval? He probably thinks I’m here to support a family business interest.

If only he knew I was just an emotional support character on a desperate husband–hunting mission!

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“Come, come, join us,” grandpa says, shepherding me toward the VIP lounge. I have no choice but to follow, falling into step beside Cassian.

The moment we’re seated, Grandpa turns his kindly but piercing gaze on me. “Gemma, my dear, have you been feeling better lately?”

It takes me a second. I see Cassian’s eyes dart to me, a silent warning. He must have told them about the hospital visit, using the “gastroenteritis” cover story.

“I feel much better, Grandpa. Thank you for asking,” I reply, my voice carefully even.

Across from me, Natalie takes a slow sip of her coffee. “Now that you’re well, it’s the perfect time to put starting a family back on the agendam”

She remarks, as if discussing the scheduling of a board meeting.

The familiar pressure descends, heavy and suffocating. These people are obsessed with lineage.

“Aunt Natalie, there’s no need to rush these things,” Cassian says, his tone gentle but firm, a shield I didn’t ask for but am grateful for.

“I’m not the one who’s rushing,” she counters, her gaze flicking

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meaningfully toward Grandpa. “But your grandfather isn’t getting any younger. He’d like to see the next generation. And it’s been three years. The entire city knows you’ve been married all this time. The absence of an heir… well, it inevitably leads to talk.”

I bite the inside of my cheek. The irony is so thick I could choke on it.

“Claire has been out of school for over a year now.”

I say, deftly redirecting the spotlight. “She’s certainly at a marriageable age. Is she seeing anyone? She should really get started soon. I’ve heard it can be more difficult later on.”

I smile sweetly at Claire, who has been sitting quietly, wisely keeping her mouth shut in Grandpa’s presence. The barb lands perfectly. Claire’s head snaps up, her eyes flashing with fury.

“I’m in no hurry! They’re talking about you. Why are you dragging me into this?”

Sybille immediately jumps to her daughter’s defense, her voice tight. “Claire is still young, she is just beginning her career. It’s far too early to be discussing marriage.”

“Well, Sybille, you’re absolutely right!”

I agree, nodding amiably. The hypocrisy is laughable, Claire is only a few years my junior. Their arguments aren’t even

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