The Don Tore Up Our Divorce (Gemma and Cassian) novel Chapter 471

Chapter 471

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Cassian’s POV

I’ve been sitting in the car, engine off, watching the minutes tick past. The resort is too quiet. Just then, Gemma’s text came through.

[Client’s a no–show.]

Since then, the itch between my shoulder blades turned into a cold crawl. Something is off.

I don’t trust feelings, I trust systems. I call Adam back at the penthouse. “Run the trace on her phone. Now.”

“Running it, sir,” he replies. I hear the faint clack of keys. “The signal’s been static. Confined to a small radius near the main lodge for the last twenty minutes. Nothing unusual.”

“Keep watching it.”

I wait. The silence of the parking lot presses in. My phone vibrates a minute later.

Adam’s voice is tense. “Sir. The signal point just… blinked. And Vamshed. It’s gone. Completely offline.”

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“It didn’t fade away slowly, it got cut off abruptly. Like a switch. The only explanation is a localized signal jammer, sir. A strong one.”

A jammer. Here. My gaze sweeps the sprawling, manicured grounds—a thousand acres of forest, golf courses, and hidden villas. A perfect place to make someone disappear.

“She’s near a jammer,” I say, my voice flat. The cold in my veins has nothing to do with the evening air. “Which means she’s exactly where she isn’t supposed to be. Find her. Grid the property. Now.”

Zina’s POV

The sterile, antiseptic air of the hospital hallway is suffocating. Jeremy paces a worn path in the linoleum beside me, his anxiety a physical vibration. We’ve been waiting for forty–seven minutes for her–the woman who holds our future in her womb. She finally texted, demanding we meet here, at her prenatal appointment. Control tactic. Fine. We’ll play.

Just as the clinic door hisses shut behind her, swallowing her from view, my personal phone lets out a sharp, distinctive beep. Not my regular tone. The sound is a bucket of ice water down my spine.

I snatch the phone from my pocket. The screen glows with an interface only three people in the world recognize. A sg 94:47

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I glance at Jeremy. “Bathroom,” I mutter, not waiting for a response. I stride to the emergency exit, the heavy door swinging shut behind me, muting the hospital’s hum.

In the stark, concrete stairwell, I pull up the contact. It rings

once.

“Cassian,” I say, my voice a low, urgent blade slicing through the static. “Are you with Gemma?”

His voice comes back, raw and breathless, the sound of a man unraveling. “Her location has disappeared! I’ve lost her signal— the front desk knows nothing… I’m searching-”

“I have her,” I cut in, my tone leaving no room for his panic. I recite the coordinates, crisp and fast. “She’s jammed. Someone has her offline. She’s at these coordinates. Go. Now. I’m pinned here, but I’m coming the second I can.”

Great! Now, I just have to survive the next hour in this hallway without screaming.

Gemma’s POV

The second my phone’s signal bars go flat, a cold clarity washes over me. A jammer. Professional–grade. They have cut me off from the world.

good thing the world isn’t my only network.

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< Chapter 471

slow, but it uses a frequency most commercial jammers ignore. I key in my coordinates and hit send. The little ‘sent‘ icon glows. A lifeline thrown to the only people who’d be looking for it: my

team. Zina.

The relief is microscopic. Zina could be anywhere. Even if she sees it, I’m on my own for the next thirty minutes, minimum.

And I have no idea who locked this door.

The balcony offers a three–story drop to decorative pavers—a definitive exit, but not a survivable one. The door is solid. The landline is a dead plastic shell.

Think.

My eyes sweep the room. Generic resort decor. Minibar. Complimentary notepad. And there, by the fancy soap dish, a small, cheap box of matches.

My gaze flicks to the bathroom. To the stack of thick, white

towels.

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