The Don Tore Up Our Divorce (Gemma and Cassian) novel Chapter 313

Chapter 313

Cassian’s POV

(4) Lucky Draw

I nod quickly as I realise that a part of me is genuinely happy Lisette is asking for me.

When I step back into the room, Gemma slips out, her gaze avoiding mine, and the door clicks shut.

Cassian, you and Gemma have been married for three years, right?

Lisette asks me with a rare clarity in her eyes.

Yes.

“Forgive me, but my daughter takes after me. Sometimes, she’s a bit stubborn. Please bear with her.” It’s a mother’s plea, laced with a lifetime of knowing her daughter’s heart.

Gemma is my wife, this is what I should do anyway. I settle into the chair beside her bed.

Cassian, when you and Gemma got married, it was too rushed. I never asked you… do you truly love Gemma?

Her sea green eyes, so like her daughter’s, search mine with a painful intensity. She knows the world I come from… the wealth, the power, and the shadows.

She knows that their modest background, the debts the carried, are stains in the eves of families like mine.

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For three years, her mental illness stole this conversation from her. But now, she’s claiming it again, taking responsibility for her daughter again.

I am sincere about Gemma. I didn’t know how to be a good husband before. The failure tastes like ash. “But from now on, 1 will try my best to make her happy.”

I see her studying my face, my eyes, looking for the lie. Slowly, the tension in her frail shoulders cases. “Hearing you say that, I am relieved.” She offers a weak, trembling smile. “Gemma has suffered a lot with me since childhood. I hope you don’t let her down.”

She pauses, and her next words are a gift I don’t deserve. “I can see she has holds you in high regard.”

The air leaves my lungs. Hearing that Gemma still has feelings for me a smile breaks through my reserve, touching my lips before I can stop it.

Gemma’s POV

The plastic chair in the hallway is hard and cold, but the chill I’m feeling in my heart has nothing to do with it. I sit, twisting my fingers together, a knot of anxiety tightening in my stomach.

Every second that ticks by feels like an hour.

What is my mother saying to him? What is he telling her? I’m terrified Cassian’s infamous impatience will surface, and I’m equally terrified that my mother, with her keen intuition, will 267

e right through the fragile mask of our marriage and accipher

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When my mother finally calls mack in, the air in the be different. The earlier tension has dissolved into something calm, feeling suspiciously harmonious.

I glance warily at Cassian. When his eyes meet mine, they hold a softness that confuses me completely. Before I can process it, his hand finds mine, his fingers lacing through my own.

The contact is like a jolt of electricity. My entire arm tingles, and I almost yank my hand back on pure instinct.

But his grip is firm, I can’t break free without making a scene, My mother is watching us with a serene smile on her lips that I haven’t seen in years.

The sight of it keeps me frozen in place, my hand trapped in his.

Later, in the back of the car, I can still feel the ghost of his touch burning on my skin. The fear for my mother finally crystallizes into a cold, sharp resolve.

“I want Kitty to pay the price.”

I will not let her or that snake, Lydia, get away with this. My mother tolerated their poison for years out of a misguided sense of family duty. But some people are simply ungrateful. They mistake kindness for weakness.

Cassian glances at me in the rearview mirror. What do you want to do?““”

A cold smile touches my lips. “Didn’t their family want to extort 3/7

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Lucky Draw

money from my mom? If they want money so much, let’s give it to them.”

The plan forms with a satisfying dick in my mind… if they have the fortune to take it.

Kitty’s POV

The walk from the elevator to my desk feels like a crucible.

I can feel their eyes on me, the secretaries, the junior analysts, everyone. Their whispers are a hissing chorus that follows me, all about my “improper intentions” for Cassian.

As if they’re any better! They’re just jealous.

I keep my head high, pretending to be bored and indifferent and slide into my chair.

Within the hour, my supervisor, a balding man with the permanent air of someone who’s been passed over for promotion way too many times, stops by my desk. “Kitty?”

“Yes… Sir, do you have any instructions?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he slams a thick stack of files onto my desk with a thud that makes my monitor shake. “This project’s funds are assigned to you. Verify them today and report back to me.”

I stare at the pile. Verifying funds? That’s a tedious, high–stakes job usually handled by a team. I can feel the disapproval fadiating from my so–called colleagues.

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Sir, one of them dares to speak up, a mousy woman from accounting, “she just started yesterday. Is it appropriate to assign this to her alone?”

The supervisor glares at her, and have to suppress a smirk. “This is Mr. Blackwell’s direct order,” he snaps. “Not satisfied? Then go talk to Mr. Blackwell yourself.”

The air shifts instantly. I see their disdain melting into shock… Mr. Blackwell’s order. The words are music to my ears. So, he was impressed yesterday.

He is giving me a chance to prove I’m not just a pretty face, that I have the brains to match. This is my opportunity.

My initial impatience evaporates.

“Mr. Blackwell said this verification is entirely entrusted

to Kitty,” the supervisor adds, “No one else is allowed to intervene.”

A thrill runs through me, I am special. I can feel the eyes on me again, but now they are filled with envy.

“I’ll have it done before the end of the day!”

My voice rings with confidence as my supervisor retreats to his glass box. I don’t even wait for him to leave before I dive in. The numbers blur together… endless columns of figures, stacks of

invoices.

One tiny mistake and I’d have to start over, but I won’t make a mistake. I’m better than that.

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