The Don Tore Up Our Divorce (Gemma and Cassian) novel Chapter 340

Chapter 340

Gemma’s POV

The moment the door clicks shut, sealing away the unsettling presence of Tate and his unstable sister, the air in my apartment feels both lighter and heavier. The immediate threat is gone, but the emotional residue clings to everything. Jace turns from the doorway, his face a mask of concern that now feels different, layered with a meaning I was blind to for years.

Gemma, are you okay? he asks, his voice soft, his eyes searching me for any sign of harm. “Did she hurt you?”

I’m fine, I assure him, but the words come out stilted. I can’t meet his gaze for long. My mind is a chaotic reel of handwritten confessions–redemption, light, a chance for me now. The foundation of our easy friendship has fractured, and I’m standing on the shifting ground.

An apology feels necessary, though I’m not entirely sure what for. “I’m sorry,” I murmur, looking down at my hands.

He looks confused, his brow furrowing. “Why are you

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apologizing?”

For not handling my own problems better. I dragged you into this. It’s a deflection, and a weak one. I’m sorry for not seeing what was right in front of me. I’m sorry that his private feelings have been violently exposed because of me.

Jace shakes his head, his guilt mirroring my own. “This is my fault. I tried to clear things up with her at the university, but I never imagined she’d track you down. here.” He explains that he saw a man in a suit–Tate- coming up the stairs after his first knock, a man who silently handed him a business card for the Hartley Group. The whole encounter was steeped in a chilling, corporate menace.

She didn’t actually do anything to me, I say, walking over to the coffee table. I close the file holding his diary, the motion feeling like closing a coffin on the friendship we used to have. The cover feels accusatory under my fingertips.

What did she show you? Jace’s question is hesitant, laced with a dawning, horrified understanding. He knows. He Rnows exactly what was in that file.

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I can’t say it. I can’t give voice to the words I read, to the years of secret longing laid bare. It would change everything irrevocably. So, I lie. It’s a flimsy, transparent lie, but it’s a life raft. “Nothing important. She just gave me a sales pitch for the Heartland Group. Told me you’d be treated like a king and make more money there than you ever could overseas.”

I shrug, not mentioning Moonlight, the team we’ve built, the thirty million dollars of Cassian’s money I’ve poured into our work. The paycheck here is more than fair.

Jace’s relief is palpable, but it’s mixed with a fierce, earnest intensity I’ve seen in his work, but never directed so personally at me. “Gemma, I want to be on your team.” The words come out in a rush. “I don’t want to work for the Heartland Group. That decision is entirely my own. Please, don’t let her get into your head.”

He’s pleading with me, not just as an employer, but on a level I’m now terrified to acknowledge. He’s afraid I’ll push him away.

I nod stiffly. “Okay. I understand.” I need space, somewhere away from his gaze to read it after all the 3/5

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times I missed it. “You should go home now. I’m… I’m really tired. I just need to be alone.”

He hesitates, wanting to say more, but he sees the finality in my posture. With a last, worried look, he leaves.

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