The Don Tore Up Our Divorce (Gemma and Cassian) novel Chapter 44

**Before Rain Touches Earth Memories Return With Gentle Warmth by Eli Dane**

**Chapter 44**

**Cassian**

The moment my words leave my lips, I can see the shock flicker across Reyna’s face, her eyes widening in disbelief. She instinctively takes a step back, creating a distance that feels heavy with tension. Yet, beneath that initial surprise, I catch a glimmer of something else: annoyance.

Annoyance? That’s a new one for Reyna. She has always been my steadfast ally, my unwavering supporter through the chaotic labyrinth of mafia politics that we navigated together since our teenage years.

But now, as I stand here, a nagging thought creeps into my mind. Is there more to her feelings than mere friendship?

Could it be that Reyna has maintained her proximity to me over the years because she harbors some ulterior motive?

She glances over her shoulder, her gaze darting toward the swinging kitchen doors where Gemma has just vanished. A look of disbelief crosses her features as she shakes her head, the motion almost incredulous.

“I can’t believe she would come onto you like that in public!” Reyna exclaims, her voice laced with a mix of disbelief and irritation. “She’s clearly trying to get caught in the act, hoping you’ll have to reveal your marriage. If anyone else had walked in on you two, there would be whispers and gossip circulating like wildfire.”

I can feel the weight of her words settling in my mind.

“If other families discover that you’ve been married in secret all this time, they’ll start doubting your trustworthiness,” she continues, her tone serious.

Her insight hits home. There is undeniable truth in her concerns. My status as a single man has often served as a strategic advantage in negotiations, especially when parents have tried to nudge me toward a marriage with their daughters.

While the thought of marriage was never on my radar, allowing them to believe it was certainly served my purposes at the time.

Reyna’s perspective holds merit, but I can’t afford to dwell on it right now. Ninety percent of my thoughts are still lost in the intoxicating moments I shared with Gemma just minutes ago, replaying every gasp, every brush of her silken skin against mine, and the warmth of her body enveloping me.

I straighten my clothes, even though they are already impeccably arranged, and swiftly redirect the conversation. “Come on, we need to head downstairs,” I say, my voice firm, as I try to shake off the lingering sensations.

Just then, James strides in with the rest of the kitchen staff, a whirlwind of activity. I point toward the shepherd’s pies he had pulled out of the oven moments before the chaos unfolded.

“Make sure those are delivered downstairs in ten minutes,” I instruct, my stomach rumbling at the mere thought of them.

James nods, his expression professional. “Of course, sir. And if you happen to see Gemma again, let her know those pies are a favorite around here.”

A frown creases my brow as I make my way toward the hidden door that leads to the underground casino.

“Gemma?” I question, curiosity piqued. “Why would she be connected to the pies?”

James looks at me as if I’ve lost my mind. “Because she’s the consultant who insisted we add them to the menu, sir. In fact, all the dishes you love were her recommendations.”

As James busies himself commanding the kitchen staff to clean up, I stand there, utterly stunned.

Gemma had a hand in putting those dishes on the menu for me?

How much has my wife done for me over these past three years without my even realizing it?

I turn to Zina, a sense of urgency in my voice. “We need to put the house I bought in your name, just like we discussed. That way, if Cassian decides to go after everything I own in the divorce, he can’t touch it.”

Zina blinks, processing my sudden shift in topic. “That’s a random change of subject, but okay.”

“It’s not random at all. Clearly, I have zero willpower when it comes to him,” I reply, frustration lacing my words.

“That’s true,” Zina agrees, nodding. “So yes, I will help with that. And once the divorce is finalized, I’ll transfer it back to you.”

“Thanks,” I say, feeling a flicker of relief.

But the restlessness still gnaws at me. Zina must sense it too because she rises from her chair, stretching her arms overhead. “Alright, friend. We need to get you out of here. You obviously need a distraction.”

“Where are we going?” I ask, already clutching my purse, eager to escape the confines of the apartment.

Zina’s grin is infectious. “Where else? Shopping!”

We head to our favorite outdoor mall, and as we browse through racks of clothes and shoes, I can feel the tension begin to dissipate from my body.

There’s nothing quite like a little retail therapy to lift the spirits.

But just as we’re transitioning from one store to the next, Zina suddenly grips my arm, her voice a hushed whisper.

“Gemma!” she hisses, her eyes wide. “Isn’t that Cassian’s psychotic cousin?! Didn’t you tell me she slapped you at a party once?!”