The Don Tore Up Our Divorce (Gemma and Cassian) novel Chapter 401

Chapter 401

Zina’s POV

Our Divorce

Gemma’s text sits on my screen: Let’s just leave him out of this.

Leave Mikhail out? My stomach tightens. That’s the plan? I think about William… back when I was stupid and chasing after him, I knew he was serious about fitness. Judo, Muay Thai, he even competed in state tournaments.

If this turns physical… we’re done for.

I look at our little group. Molly is biting her thumbnail, her eyes wide. A brilliant coder, zero muscle. Jace is scanning the cinema layout on his phone, his brow pinched in concentration.

A strategic mind, not a fighter’s body.

His mind is clearly a million miles away, with Gemma, when I ask. “Jace, can you fight?”

Hegblinks, pulled back to the present. “Huh?” 09:55

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“I mean, can you throw a punch? Taekwondo? Judo? Anything?”

He frowns, giving me a perplexed expression. He shakes his head slowly. “I’m a scholar.”

I roll my eyes so hard I see my own brain.

Great! So that’s a definite no.

So, we’re just three tech nerds. Unless William plans to attack Gemma with a malicious code we can put up a firewall against, we’re pretty much useless.

In a straight–up fight, we’d be swatted aside like flies.

A cold knot of fear forms in my gut. I can’t risk this. I won’t.

“I’m going to the restroom,” I announce, standing abruptly. I don’t wait for a response.

Inside the tiled bathroom, I lock myself in a stall and sink onto the closed toilet lid. My heart is hammering. I pull out my phone, my fingers scrolling through my contacts

until I find the name I swore I’d never call for help. 09:55

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Cassian.

His contact card stares back at me. I chew my lip, hesitating for what feels like an hour but is probably thirty seconds. The image of William’s practiced, confident stance flashes in my mind. And beside him is my Gemma, vulnerable and unaware.

I don’t care if she gets mad at me later. I don’t care about pride or past grievances, only that she walks out of that cinema in one piece.

My thumb comes down on the call button. It rings, sounding a little too loud inside the quiet stall.

I hold my breath.

Cassian’s POV

The phone buzzes against the polished desk. Zina?

It’s not a call I ever expected. I answer, and her words come in a rushed, anxious whisper. ..

My body is moving before she finishes. “I’m on my way.”

bhang up and turn to Adam. “Get me a ticket for the 75305 showing at the Grand Cinema..”

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Adam taps frantically at his tablet, his face paling. “Mr. Blackwell, it… it seems that showing is completely sold out.”

He sounds baffled. Who knew a re–release would be this popular?

I look at him. “Then figure something out.”

He flinches, misunderstanding my urgency to be directed towards the movie, and not the one who will be watching it.

“The next showing is at 9:45? Would that… work?”

Work? Is he an idiot? Gemma is in there now. My patience evaporates. I don’t answer, just stare until he starts to squirm.

“Or… or…” he stammers, thinking desperately. “We could try to buy tickets from someone outside the theater? Scalpers? If we offer a premium, someone might sell…”

Oh yes! That’s it.

That’s the plan. I don’t wait for him to finish. I’m already.

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grabbing my coat, making sure to pull a baseball cap and a disposable mask from the drawer.

Twenty minutes later, I’m standing near the entrance to Theater 3, the mask covering my mouth, the cap pulled low. I watch the stream of people, their tickets in‘ hand. I step forward, blocking the path of a couple.

“Excuse me,” I say, my voice deliberately casual. “This showing… it’s special to me. I’ll pay a thousand dollars for your seats. You can switch to a later show.” I hold up my phone, the banking app open.

The couple stares, their eyes wide. A thousand dollars for a twenty–dollar ticket? The man hesitates for only a second before nodding vigorously. “Deal.” A quick transfer, and their tickets are in my hand.

I move to the next group. “A thousand dollars for your tickets.”

The offer is a siren song. A teenager, two friends, a middle–aged man… they all take it. Their curiosity about why is outweighed by the easy money.

Athousand…” I repeat, over and over, a mantra of quiet desperate bribery.

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I intercept everyone I can before they pass the final usher, except for a few who slipped in early.

I hand the excess ticket stubs to a stunned Adam, who

has just caught up.

“Dispose of these.”

Holding a single ticket of my own, I walk through the doors.

Gemma’s POV

Twenty minutes slip by like water. My lemon water is barely touched, the ice long melted. I stand, and William follows we walk into the dim lobby of the cinema hall. The smell of popcorn and carpet cleaner is overwhelming.

We find our seats: center row, good view. As I sit, a sudden, protective wave has my hand moving to rest on the gentle curve of my stomach.

“Feeling cold?” William’s voice is a solicitous murmur

beside me. “Shall I ask for a blanket? This place is famous for its aggressive air conditioning.”

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He sounds so considerate, so chivalrous.

If I hadn’t watched the surveillance footage myself, I would never believe this man harbors a darker purpose. The dissonance is chilling.

“No need,” I say quickly, shaking my head. The last thing I want is him wandering out to the lobby and potentially running into Zina, Jace, and Molly. “I’m not that cold.”

The pre–show ads finally flicker to an end. The main lights die, plunging us into darkness broken only by the radiant glow of the screen. The studio logos flash, and the film begins.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see movement at the back. Three figures in baseball caps slip in, moving with exaggerated stealth, and settle into the very last row.

A shaky breath I didn’t know I was holding escapes me. They’re here!

But as my eyes adjust, a new unease prickles my skin. I scan the rows ahead of us. The theater was nearly sold out online. So why are there so many empty seats? Whole rows of the front and middle sections are vacant

09:56

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It feels wrong, eerily quiet.

“Could this screening have been bought out in advance?”

I murmur the thought aloud, more to myself than to him.

William leans in slightly, his attention split between the movie and my question.

care–release,” he whispers

back. “A classic. They shouldn’t need to buy out tickets to fill seats.”

His logic is sound, but it does nothing to settle me. In fact, it makes the hollow theater feel more sinister.

The whole point of agreeing to this public meeting was the safety of a crowd, but this manufactured emptiness strips that safety away.

Q/2