The Don Tore Up Our Divorce (Gemma and Cassian) novel Chapter 417

Chapter 417

Liam’s POV

They keep parroting the same line: no offense, just preference, but their eyes are slick with a knowing, manipulative glint. The old me, the hothead from a decade ago, would have already cleared this patio table with their faces. Years have mellowed me, but the urge is a live wire in my fists.

Cassian doesn’t raise his voice. He just leans in, and his tone drops into something colder than the bad coffee. “Let’s be clear. Is this business about relationships, or is it about profit?”

He lets the question hang, a blade in the sunlit air. Then he methodically dismantles their leverage.

“Blackwell Industries has been the industry benchmark for a decade. Out of loyalty, our rates have been generous. You terminate now? The breach penalties alone are astronomical.”

He ticks the points off on his fingers. “Then there’s the industry fallout. Blacklisting isn’t just a word. Do you honestly believe Reyna Holloway’s name is a magic key that will unlock better doors?”

He doesn’t even need to mention Blackwell Industries. The unspoken threat is clear: crossing Cassian Blackwell in this sector is a career–ending move.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he continues, his voice a quiet,

dangerous monotone. “You see a few projects lost, you think we’re desperate. You think we’ll beg. Let me correct you. Blackwell Industries is not cash–poor. And I,” he says, pinning each of them with a look, “am certainly not.”

The declaration lands like a physical blow. They flinch. They know it’s true. The Blackwell family wealth is a bottomless well. A corporate setback is an annoyance, not an existential threat.

“If it comes to it,” Cassian says, shrugging with a casualness that chills my blood, “walking away from Blackwell Industries is an option for me. But for you?” He lets the implication sink in. “Can you walk away from the penalties? Can you walk into another project in this town after this?”

The room is dead silent. I’m staring at him, my mind reeling. Walk away from Blackwell Industries? This is the company he built from a sketch on a napkin. I’ve seen him pour his soul, his sweat, every waking hour into this place. It’s his firstborn, his true legacy. And he’s talking about discarding it? Like it’s a used car?

The thought hits me like a sucker punch: Is this all to keep Reyna out? To avoid any possible misunderstanding with

Gemma?

I barely recognize the man beside me. The Cassian I know has a clear hierarchy: Blackwell Industries is his heart, Blackwell Industries is a prestigious asset. Now, it seems Gemma has somehow vaulted to the top of that list, worth torching the very foundation of his professional life. The scale of the sacrifice he’s implying is staggering.

The executives across from us are pale. Their earlier smugness has evaporated, replaced by a dawning, sick horror, I can practically see their thoughts: This isn’t the script Reyna gave us. She said he’d fold. He’s supposed to fold!

They exchange panicked, silent communications. Finally, the lead one, Greer, clears his throat. Mr. Blackwell… would you give us a moment? To confer?”

Cassian’s expression doesn’t change. It’s the look of a man who saw the checkmate three moves ago. “So, you wish to proceed with the renewal?”

“Yes! Absolutely!” They chorus, nodding like bobbleheads, desperate to lock this down before his mood shifts again. “We’re longstanding partners! We would never consider severing ties. This was… a temporary misjudgment. We never intended to cause friction.”

A ghost of a smile, more like a smirk of contempt, touches Cassian’s lips. He doesn’t bother with a reply. He simply stands, straightens his cuff, and walks out.

I’m left to throw a curt “Look forward to it” over my shoulder as I follow him.

The moment we’re out of earshot, I imagine I can hear the collective gasp of relief, the frantic wiping of brows. I can almost hear their hissed accusations: “Reyna almost buried us!” “I told you not to underestimate him! Crossing Blackwell Industries is one thing, but crossing Cassian Blackwell is professional suicide!”

His name, that’s the real currency.

It carries more weight than any corporate logo ever could.

He knew it, played it… and he was willing to burn his own company to the ground to prove the point.

As I fall into step beside him, I’m not just looking at my friend and business partner. I’m looking at a man who has just redefined his priorities in the most brutal way possible, and for some reason… it has left me deeply disturbed.