The Don Tore Up Our Divorce (Gemma and Cassian) novel Chapter 371

Chapter 371

Gemma’s POV

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The sight of Tate and Amanda is the final straw in an evening already saturated with unwanted tension. My expression tightens, any pretense of social ease vanishing.

Amanda’s face is a thundercloud. The memory of her forced apology under Tate’s command clearly still rankles. She looks at me with pure, undiluted

resentment.

Just then, a waiter glides by with a silver platter of freshly grilled lobster and scallops. The rich, buttery scent of seafood hits me like a physical blow. My stomach, which has been placid until now, gives a violent, treacherous lurch. Nausea rises so fast it steals my breath.

“Excuse me,” I manage to choke out, my voice strained. “I need the restroom.”

As I turn to flee, Amanda’s voice, sharp and deliberate, follows me. “Me too! I’ll come with you.”

It’s a common enough excuse, women traveling in packs

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to the bathroom, so no one pays it any mind. No one sees the predatory gleam in her eye.

Inside the pristine, marble bathroom, I barely make it to the sink before I’m heaving, my body convulsing violently over the porcelain. I’d foolishly believed I might escape the physical trials of pregnancy. I’ve overestimated my own resilience. The spasms are so intense I feel hollowed out, my eyes watering.

From behind me, Amanda’s voice is a venomous drip. “My, my. That’s quite the reaction. What’s the matter… pregnant?”

I force myself upright, splashing cold water on my face, rinsing the sour taste from my mouth. I meet her gaze in the mirror. My own is bleak.

“Your private life must be a revolving door,” she continues, a triumphant smirk twisting her lips. “So, who’s the lucky father? Mikhail? Cassian?” She leans in, her voice a malicious whisper. “Or someone else entirely? I wonder what Jace would think if he knew how… used you are. He sees some pure little artist. What a joke.”

Pdon’t have the strength for her poison. “Move, sa 9:36

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flatly, reaching for the door.

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But she blocks my path, jealousy curdling into rage. “You’re a slut, Gemma! A cheap, dirty slut! What gives you the right to have someone like Jace look at you the way he does? You don’t deserve it!”

Her words wash over me, meaningless. I just feel profoundly weak and desperately tired. All I want is to lie down. Pushing past her, I stumble out, leaving her standing there, her eyes burning with a furious, red–rimmed hatred. I can feel her stare on my back, and I know, with a cold certainty, that she has figured it out.

I don’t return to the party. The idea of facing Cassian, of navigating the sea of curious eyes, is unbearable. I deeply regret not insisting Zina come with me from the start. At least I’d have an ally.

As if summoned by the thought, I spot her on the far side of the pool, waving frantically. “Gemma!” She’s with Jeremy. Of course–as head of the Opal Group, Meredith would have invited him. He probably had no idea Tate would drag his spiteful sister along.

RéИef floods me. I turn to make my way toward her, BA136

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the path is a gauntlet of chatting bodies and discarded towels. I have to weave carefully, twice nearly losing my balance at the pool’s slick edge. My heart hammers with a sudden, irrational fear of the water. I decide to give the pool a wider berth.

That’s when it happens.

A sudden, sharp shove between my shoulder blades. No accidental bump. A deliberate, forceful push.

My arms pinwheel, grabbing at empty air. There’s a moment of sickening, weightless terror before my body crashes into the cold, chlorinated water.

The impact knocks the air from my lungs. I know how to swim, but panic is a better swimmer. It claws up my throat, worse than the water flooding my nose. My hands fly to my stomach, a primal, protective instinct eclipsing everything else. The baby.

“OH MY GOD, Gemma!” Zina’s scream pierces the party noise, followed by the unmistakable, echoing splash.

Even through the watery chaos, I see a dark blur launch from the edge. Cassian. He hits the water beside me 09:36

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without even shedding his suit jacket. A pair of strong, certain arms wraps around me, hauling me upward, breaking the surface.

I’m gasping, coughing, water burning my throat and nose

as he carries me to the side and lifts me onto the cool tile. I curl on my side, retching up pool water, my body trembling violently.

“Gemma, I’m taking you to the hospital!” Cassian’s voice is raw, stripped of all its usual control.

He’s already rising, dripping, ready to scoop me up again, when Meredith rushes over, her hostess composure shattered. “The nearest hospital is thirty minutes in traffic! I have a private physician on call. Take her upstairs first. She needs dry clothes and a warm room. I’ll fetch some things.‘

Cassian hesitates, his brow furrowed in agony. He looks at me, shivering and pale in my soaked dress. “She’ll catch pneumonia,” he mutters, more to himself.

After a tense second, he nods, grim–faced, and gathers me into his arms again.

5/7

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Zina tries to follow, but Jeremy gently restrains her. “Let them get her settled. She needs to change. Too many people will just crowd her. Give it a minute.” He pulls her close, his hand a steadying pressure on her back. “She’ll be okay. She’s tough.”

Cradled against Cassian’s chest, I’m only half–aware of the movement. A deep, worrying dizziness swirls in my head, and a bone–deep chill has taken root. I shiver uncontrollably, instinctively pressing closer to the solid warmth of him, my fingers fisting in his sodden collar.

He holds me tighter, his pace urgent as he follows Meredith upstairs. I can feel the frantic rhythm of his heart against my ear, a wild counterpoint to my own

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