The Don Tore Up Our Divorce (Gemma and Cassian) novel Chapter 346

Chapter 346

Jeremy nods slightly at Cassian, then turns his gaze to Zina. It’s a simple look, but it carries a profound, unspoken command. “Zina,” he says, his voice low and steady. “Come here.”

It’s just those two words, but they are layered with a raw masculinity that is impossible to ignore. In that moment, I suddenly understand why my friend, a veteran of so many flings, fell so hard for him. No one could resist that.

Sure enough, I see the fight drain out of Zina. She hesitates, looking from me to Jeremy and back again. “Gemma…” she says, her voice full of apology.

I sigh, defeated by his carefully orchestrated scheme. “You go,” I tell her, gesturing resignedly towards the familiar Rolls–Royce. “I’ll take his car.”

Once inside, the silence is thick. Cassian starts the engine, and I have to grudgingly admit his expert driving skills make the winding mountain road feel smooth and effortless. The motion is so comfortable, combined with my emotional exhaustion and the early morning, that a 1/5 heavy drowsiness begins to pull at me.

14:52

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“There’s a thin blanket in the back,” he offers, his eyes flicking to me. “If you feel sleepy, take a nap. I’ll wake you up when we get there.”

I shake my head, forcing my eyes to stay open. “No need.”

He takes a moment to glance at me, a knowing look in his eyes. “Are you afraid that I will take you back to Oakhaven while you are asleep?”

I press my lips together, refusing to answer. The thought had, in fact, crossed my mind.

“Are you going to buy an apartment?” he asks, changing the subject.

The question jolts me fully awake. “Who told you that?” The words come out sharp, suspicious. I only discussed this with Zina yesterday. How does he already know?

“Jeremy mentioned it to me,” he replies casually.

“Jeremy?” I’m baffled. “When did you and Jeremy become so close?” The last I knew, they barely tolerated each other.

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2/5

A faint, almost wry smile touches his lips. “Maybe we’re in the same boat.”

Upon hearing that, I can’t help but glance at him, my eyes full of contempt. But his ploy has worked; I’ve taken the bait and confirmed his information.

“Have you picked a property?” he presses.

Leaning my head against the window, I decide there’s no harm in telling him. “Maybe the one under Cloud Group.” Their properties are known for their quality.

“The houses there are still under construction. If you want to move in, it will probably take a year,” he says, his tone shifting to that of a clinical advisor. “And new buildings can have issues. It’s better to consider the older ones. Mortland is a good option.”

I also know the houses at Mortland are superior. But the price is easily twice that of Cloud Group. The financial hurdle for Cloud Group is already daunting enough.

“If you think Mortland is good, you can contact me,” he continues. “I have a friend who is really good at this.” 3/5

14:52

I let out a dry chuckle. “Mr. Blackwell, so you’re also involved in real estate now.” The comment is laced with

sarcasm.

The car rolls to a smooth stop in front of Urban Lane. I don’t wait for it to fully settle before I’m pushing the door open, eager to escape the confined space and his unnerving presence.

Leaning in the driver’s seat, he rolls down the window. “Consider my proposal,” he calls out.

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