The Don Tore Up Our Divorce (Gemma and Cassian) novel Chapter 479

Chapter 479

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Gemma’s POV

I could probably partner with just about anyone on earth and it would go more smoothly than trying to work with Rehena Carey. The woman who sees me not as a colleague, but as an obstacle to be literally locked away.

“I’m sorry,” I say, forcing my voice to remain level, professional. “But I don’t think this arrangement fits my situation very well.”

It’s a gentle refusal. I know this job is a golden ticket to build my own reputation, without the shadow of the Moonlight alias.

But the thought of sitting across a table from Rehena and navigating the minefield of her hostility makes my stomach turn. I am not that desperate.

“Ms. Marino, there’s no need to decide immediately! We can give you a day to consider. If you still feel it’s not a good fit tomorrow, you are, of course, free to decline.”

I hesiRennet, “Alright. I’ll let you know by tomorrow.”

I end the call and drop the phone onto the counter, and feel Cassian’s gaze before I look up. He’s been watching me silent37

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< Chapter 479

from the edge of the kitchen.

“Trouble with the collaboration?” he asks. His voice is flat, but his eyes are sharp.

I run a hand through my hair, frustration making the gesture rough. “Yeah. They want me to work with Rehena.”

His expression darkens instantly. The memory of my phone call from the locked room, the quiet panic in my voice, is fresh for both of us. “A person who relies on such petty tactics,” he scoffs, the disdain dripping from each word. “What are they thinking, choosing her?”

I sigh, leaning back against the counter. I have to be fair, even now. “Rehena’s proposals are actually impressive. She’s brilliant. She’s just… slick. All underhanded politics.”

I had listened to her pitch today. Her technical vision was sharp, innovative. In a fair fight, she’d be a rival worthy of respect. But she doesn’t fight fair.

“Great skills don’t mean much when the character’s lacking,” Cassian mutters, his jaw tight.

I shoot him a look then, one I can’t help. The irony is too rich. Work capability and character aren’t always linked, true. But his own past misdeeds–the neglect, the indifference, the public humiliation with Linda–flash between us like a neon n. His37

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< Chapter 479

character isn’t exactly spotless either.

He seems to catch my thought, his eyes meeting mine with a grim acknowledgment. “I’m no saint myself,” he says, the admission startling in its bluntness. “Which is why Blackwell Industries is having its issues. It was only a matter of time.”

His self–awareness disarms me. I look away, busying myself with gathering my things. I need air. I need to think. “I’m going to the hospital,” I announce, heading for the foyer.

“I’ll drive you.”

I’m already slipping my shoes on, my back to him. “No need. I’ll update Mikhail about today. Don’t worry about it.” I don’t give him a chance to argue. I open the door and step out into the evening, closing it firmly on his protest, on the heavy, complicated weight of his presence.

The hospital room is a capsule of sterile calm. Mikhail listens as I recount the day–the pitch, the locked door, Rennet’s bizarre collaboration offer. He’s propped up in bed, looking more alert, though the bandages on his head are a stark reminder of his own recent chaos.

“What do you think?” I ask, folding my arms. “Should I take it?”

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He glances at me, his demeanor unnervingly calm. “You’re the one with the skills. What’s there to be afraid of?”

“But-” I start, the objections lining up on my tongue: the toxicity, the guaranteed conflict, the sheer unpleasantness of it all.

“Are you really going to throw away such a rare chance just because of personal issues?” he interrupts, his gaze steady. “Do you want to spend your career under the ‘Moonlight‘ name forever?”

The question hits its mark. The Moonlight gigs are lucrative, anonymous, safe in their way. But they are unstable, ghost work. Building a name in network forensics as Gemma Marino, that’s something solid. Something lasting.

“Gemma,” he adds, his voice dropping a fraction. “You’re a mother now.”

The words are a quiet detonation. They sink in, shifting the bedrock of every prior assumption. In the past, I believed I could live my whole life in the shadows as Moonlight. Content. As long as the work was good and the bills were paid. But now… I think of a future child, asked at school, What does your mom do? I want an answer they can give with pride. A name they can say. Taking the position at Bright Moon International was my first step into the light. This collaboration, maddening as it is, is another.

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A sense of resolve, cold and hard, begins to crystallize inside me.

The nurse comes in then to change Mikhail’s bandages. The wound on his head is still an angry red. I wince in sympathy. “Does your head still hurt?” I ask, gesturing vaguely toward my own temple.

“Not really.”

A lull falls. I glance around the empty room. “Where are Vicky and Linda today?”

He shrugs, a minimal movement. “How would I know? I’m not their keeper. If they’re not here, it’s not the end of the world for me.” He sounds genuinely disinterested, which gives me a strange pang. I think of Linda’s devas Rennetd face in the hallway.

“Don’t you ever think about your own future?” The words are out before I can stop them. “Linda seems pretty genuine. Aren’t you going to give her a chance?”

As soon as I say it, I know I’ve overstepped. But as a friend, the urge to see him settled, cared for, is strong.

“Gemma,” he sighs, a note of true exasperation entering his voice. “Are you starting on your love advice again?”

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“Love advice? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know,” he says, his tone turning flippant, a defense mechanism I recognize. “Trying to set people up. Push them into things. What’s so bad about not being tied down to one person?”

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