The Don Tore Up Our Divorce (Gemma and Cassian) novel Chapter 377

Chapter 377

Gemma’s POV

“So, why then?” Zina presses, her frustration bubbling over. She’d talked herself into thinking William was one of the rare decent ones, and the betrayal stings. “If it’s not random, what’s the point?”

“That’s exactly it,” I say, setting my glass down with a soft click. “We don’t know. If we go public now, if we have him arrested on assault charges, I’ll never find out. The ‘why‘ gets locked away with him.”

Zina stares at me, her mind struggling to catch up. “What are you saying?”

“We wait,” I state, meeting her gaze steadily.

The implications dawn on her slowly, then all at once. Her eyes widen. “You… you want to draw him out? You want him to try again?” Her voice rises in disbelief.

I give a single, firm nod.

“No!” She shakes her head violently, recoiling as if from a physical threat. “Absolutely not! Gemma, he was going after your baby! You got lucky this time. What about next ou can’t use yourself as bait!”

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Her fear is visceral, a friend’s protective terror. I am a walking vulnerability now, and she sees the risk in stark, horrifying

terms.

I reach out and take her hand, trying to ground us both. “Zina, the ‘why‘ is everything. If I don’t know his motive, I’m just treating a symptom. I need to understand the disease.”

“Who cares about his motives!” she cries, pulling her hand back to gesture wildly. “He’s a Nancytic! His motive is that he’s crazy! Let the police sort out his psychiatric evaluation after they lock him up!”

She thinks I’m being stubborn, obtuse. To her, the solution is simple: remove the immediate threat.

“And if he’s not acting alone?” I ask, my voice dropping. “If someone is behind him? Then we lock up William, and the person who sent him remains free, invisible, and can simply find another ‘William.‘ I don’t want to catch one pawn, Zina. I want the player moving them on the board.”

The room goes quiet as the larger, uglier picture settles between us. This isn’t about one man’s madness; it’s about a potential network, a targeted campaign.

“So what’s the plan, then?” she asks, her voice smaller now.

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takes a subconscious step back, as if creating space for the magnitude of the secret we’re about to share. “You keep this

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“Not everyone,” I say. “Just from the people who would stop me, or who might inadvertently warn him. I need a team. A small one.”

“You, Jace, and Molly,” I confirm. These are my people. Their skills are complementary, and their loyalty is to me, not to any other agenda.

Zina’s brow furrows. “You’re not going to tell Cassian?”

My face hardens instantly. “I have no connection to him anymore. Why would I?”

“Then… Mikhail? Can I at least tell Jeremy?”

“No,” I cut in sharply, making a definitive ‘X‘ with my hands. “Absolutely not. Jeremy is tied to Cassian and Liam. It’s a short pipeline from him to the people who would intervene.”

Like Cassian, who would likely have William disappear into a black hole before I could blink.

Mikhail… I can consider it. His resources, his particular brand of ruthless pragmatism, could be useful. “I might bring Mikhail in. Later.”

Zina wraps her arms around herself, curling into the sofa. “When do you think he’ll try again?“.

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“I don’t know,” I admit. “But he failed tonight. If he’s under orders, he’ll be pressured to act again soon. If it’s personal… his frustration will demand another attempt.”

“I still think it’s a terrible, dangerous idea,” she mutters, her eyes fixed on me with worry.

“I’ll take precautions,” I promise, my tone shifting to planning mode. “A subcutaneous micro–locator. A voice–activated recorder. The moment I know I’m going to be near him, I’ll activate a distress protocol. You, Jace, and Molly will get real–time alerts with my location. You won’t be far.”

Seeing the detailed forethought does little to ease her anxiety, but it proves I’m not charging in blind. She lets out a long, defeated sigh. She knows me. Once my mind is set, there’s no budging me. “Then you have to promise me,” she says, her voice thick with emotion. “No solo missions. No heroics. You loop us in every single step.”

I offer her a small, reassuring smile. “I promise.”

We hash out a few more basic protocols, and within a few minutes, a deep exhaustion finally crashes over me.

With Zina reluctantly onboard, all I can do now is rest and wait for the next move in a game where I’ve just volunteered to be the bait and the prize.

and

The bait

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I stand in the middle of Gemma’s living room, the plan we just made hanging heavy in the air. Instead of heading for the shower, I give her a quick, tight hug goodnight and slip out, my mind already racing.

But I don’t make it far. Jeremy’s car is idling at the curb, a dark, silent predator. My stomach drops. I slide into the passenger seat, forcing a bright, chirpy tone. “Hey, you! You came to get me? That’s so sweet of ”

“Explain.” His voice slices through my act, cold and flat.

My smile falters. “Explain what? I just made sure Gemma got home safe. She’s pretty shaken up, you know, after someone tried to drown her.”

His patience is gone. He lets go of the steering wheel, turns in his seat, and his hand comes up, his fingers settling not roughly, but with undeniable possession, around the side of my neck.

The touch isn’t painful, but it’s a reminder of who holds the power here. This man. He always uses these physical, dominating tactics, and my stupid heart always stutters in

response.

“You have one last chance,” he says, his eyes boring into mine

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Paeflate, the fight leaving me. “Fine. I’ll tell you.” I swallow,

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my throat moving against his palm. “I’m not Moonlight.”

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