The Don Tore Up Our Divorce (Gemma and Cassian) novel Chapter 302

Chapter 302

Cassian’s POV

We arrive at Dream International’s conference room ten minutes early. Punctuality is a discipline, a habit carved into me from years in the cockpit where schedules are law. The room is empty, save for a manager who ushers us in and asks us to wait. Adam takes a seat beside me, arranging his files with quiet efficiency.

My eyes scan the room, a futile, habitual search. “Did you see Gemma on the way in?” I ask him, my voice lower than intended.

Adam doesn’t look up from his tablet. “No, Mr. Blackwell. I didn’t see Mrs. Blackwell.”

Of course not. She’s probably on another floor, or perhaps not even in the building. The disappointment is a small, sharp pinch. I’d allowed myself a sliver of hope that she might be involved in this meeting. The prospect of seeing her in her element, of having a legitimate reason to be in the same room with her that didn’t involve our crumbling personal life, had been a quiet, persistent thought on the drive over.

Ten minutes pass. Then fifteen. The polished surface of the conference table reflects my growing impatience. This is a significant partnership. Lack of punctuality reads as lack of respect, or worse, incompetence. I’m about to instruct Adam to find someone, anyone, to explain the delay when the door finally swings open.

15:20

Chapter 302

anaps up, and I feed my entire poure changes, the irritation melting away in an instant. Then she is, a folder clutched in her hands, her expression all busines

She stops just inside the doorway and I see the briefest flicker of surprise in her eyes when she see me. It’s gone in a heurtbent, replaced by a cool, professional sk. She takes the sont directly across from me, her movements precise.

“Mr. Blackwell,” she begins, her one formal, “I’ll be representing Dream International in today’s negotiations.”

Mr. Blackwell, The title is a deliberate wall. But inwardly, I’m pleased. Negotiating with my wife is infinitely preferable to sparring with one of Mikhail’s slick, numbers–obsessed executives. This, at least, feels personal, Real

She starts with the pleasantries, praising Blackwell Industries‘ safety record. She’s done her homework, I simply nod, waiting for the real discussion to begin. This partnership is a solid one for both sides; it should be straightforward,

But then she shifts. “However, there are some pricing concerns

from our side.”

Now, this is interesting. The initial terms we offered were more than fair, designed for a long–term, symbiotic relationship. I lean back, curious. “What seems to be the issue?”

She lays it out. The large employee base, the international branches, the value of the entertainment division’s constant travel. It’s all true. But her conclusion… she’s essentially saying 265. our generous discount isn’t generous enough. She wants to know

< Chapter 302

willing to cut.

Lucky Draw

“The contract states a twenty percent discount across the board, including all internal promotions. I clarify, watching her closely. The number is already aggressive.

She doesn’t flinch. Instead, she delivers a line that feels rehearsed, almost forced. “A twenty percent discount can be found during promotional events at most airlines. Frankly, it lacks sincerity.”

That’s when I know. This isn’t a casual negotiation. She came here with a specific, predetermined target. Mikhail has given her a mission. The question is, how far is she willing to push? How

much does she need?

“So,” I say, my voice even. “What discount is your company looking for?”

She takes a visible breath, as if steeling herself. Then she lays out the terms, and they are… audacious. A thirty percent discount on passenger tickets. Priority upgrades. Cargo rates ten percent below market value.

I hear Adam suck in a sharp breath beside me. I don’t need to look at him to know his expression is one of pure disbelief. He’s running the numbers in his head, and they’re bleeding red. This wouldn’t be a partnership; it would be a charity. Blackwell Industries would be operating at a significant loss, all for the vague promise of “reputation” and “future collaborations.”

“Mrs. Blackwell,” Adam interjects, his voice strained with the effort to remain polite, “isn’t this bit too…”

15:20

< Chapter 302

“Agreed.”

The word leaves my mouth before he can finish. It’s calm, definitive.

Lucky Draw

The room goes utterly silent. Adam stares at me, his mouth slightly agape. Gemma’s eyes widen, her professional

composure cracking for a single, unguarded second. She looks as stunned as I feel.

“Mr. Blackwell!” Adam finally finds his voice, a quiet plea.

I hold up a hand, stopping him. I keep my gaze locked on Gemma. “Dream International’s influence is substantial. The long–term brand association and passenger loyalty could offset the initial financial hit.” I’m rationalizing, building a business case for a decision that has nothing to do with business. “Your company’s requests are acceptable.”

I see the understanding dawn in her eyes. She knows me too well. A concession this large doesn’t come without a price.

“What does Mr. Blackwell want?” she asks, her voice carefully neutral, bracing for a financial counter–demand or a contractual

clause.

I lean forward slightly, the polished tabletop reflecting the faint, wry smile I can’t quite suppress. I want you to move back to the master bedroom.”

The silence this time is even more profound. It’s so quiet I can hear the hum of the air conditioning.

4/5

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