The Don Tore Up Our Divorce (Gemma and Cassian) novel Chapter 386

Chapter 386

Author’s POV

Meanwhile, Lydia follows the narrow, garbage–strewn path toward the market’s entrance.

A single car sits with its high beams on, blinding her. Despite the initial discomfort, her heart leaps with joy. The money!

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With excited steps, she hurries forward, her eyes fixed on the vehicle and imagining the stacks of cash just a few feet from her. But before she takes another step, the blind. snap off.

ghts

Instantly, several other cars parked in the shadows flash their lights on, pinning her in a circle of light.

“Freeze! Police! You’re surrounded!”

A commanding voice cuts through the night. Lydia’s breath locks in her throat. Her whole body goes rigid. He called the police?!

Both her and Kitty were so sure Cassian wouldn’t dare involve the authorities, after all, Gemma’s life was on the line.

But it looked like they had underestimated him completely.

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Meanwhile, several officers rush from the glare, swiftly grabbing her arms and pressing her against the damp brick wall. “Where’s the hostage?”

An officer demands, his voice sharp in her ear.

Lydia clenches her jaw. The seafood market is a complex maze of alleys and sheds, and the wooden hut is well–hidden. If she stays silent, they might not find Gemma in time.

Her only slim hope now is to delay them long enough for Kitty to realize something is wrong and flee.

Seeing her defiant silence, the lead officer’s frustratio

“Cuff her and secure the scene!”

clear.

Just then, two more figures come rushing down the path. Zina and Jace skid to a halt at the sight of the police. Quickly, they raise their hands.

“We’re friends of the hostage!” Jace blurts out, her voice strained with panic. “We’re here to help!”

Gemma’s POV

Cassian’s body stiffens for a moment before he takes a step toward Kitty. She scrambles back, the gasoline can sloshing in

her grip.

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“Don’t come any closer, or we all die!”

She screams, her voice shredding at the edges. Cassian freezes, his hands coming up slowly.

“I’m not moving,” he says, forcing his voice to be calm. “Just put the can down. Tell me what you want, and I’ll make it happen.”

For a second, she just stares. Then, unexpectedly enough, a laugh bubbles out of her.

“I want you both dead!”

She shrieks. In her panicked mind, the logic is clear: they aren’t getting the fifty million anymore, because Cassian never intended to give it to them.

With Lydia suspiciously missing, they are probably going to get sued, with kidnapping high on the list.

So, she might as well burn all this down!

Before I can take another breath, she turns the can upside down. A gush of clear liquid arcs through the air, splashing across the dirt floor, over the legs of my chair.

The stench is so sharp it makes my eyes water. The match in her other hand strikes against the box, and a flame flares to 3/8

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life.

“No!”

She drops the match.

With a soft whoosh, a blue line races along the trail of gasoline, then erupts into a wall of hungry, orange flame between us and the door. Kitty darts around the fire and out the shattered doorway, disappearing into the night.

Immediately, a wall of heat pushes against my skin like a physical force.

I’m not generally afraid of fire, but this feels like I’m trapped behind a wall. The flames start to climb the dry, wooden walls, crackling with a sound like snapping bones.

The thought settles, cold and final in my chest: I might die

here.

My eyes find Cassian through the wavering heat, trying to get

to me.

“You should leave quickly!”

But he doesn’t even acknowledge my words. He just kneels

at my feet, his fingers working frantically at the coarse ropes binding my ankles to the chair legs. 4/8

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Seeing him ignore my words, I feel another panic growing in my heart.

The past three years… they were what he owed me.

If he dies here with me, does that mean the ledger is wiped clean? In the afterlife, would we start from square one?

The idea is intolerable. I don’t want those years of silent torment and humiliation to be settled so easily.

“Cassian, I told you to leave!” My agitation makes my voice crack. “I don’t need you to save me!”

He looks up, his brow furrowed, but his hands don’t stop. One of the loops finally gives way.

“Don’t act rashly,” he says, his voice grating with smoke and effort. “Let’s figure out how to get out of here first!”

His calm is a mirror, showing me my own hysteria. I bite my tongue, pressing my lips together.

My legs are free, but I can’t move yet.

The handcuff chafes my wrist, the chain leading to the old iron radiator pipe. Cassian grips the pipe and pulls, but nothing

happens.

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He tries again, and the metal doesn’t even groan. I catch the first glimpse of his calmness fracturing, replaced by a frantic light in his eyes.

Sweat streams down his temple; whether it is from the heat or the fear, I’m not sure anymore.

“Cassian! Just go!” I scream, the smoke making me cough. “Didn’t you hear me? Don’t worry about me, okay? I don’t want you to!”

If I die here today, I will not have him beside me. Walking that final path with him would feel like the cruelest joke of

He ignores me, his gaze laser–focused on where the radiator is bolted to the wall. His lips press into a thin line. “I’m going to kick the connection cord.”

He says, his voice strangely gentle now, yet cutting through the roar. “It might hurt your hand. Bear with it.”

A lump forms in my throat, thick and painful. “I just…”

“There’s no time.” His words are final. “Save whatever you want to say for when we get out.”

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