The Don Tore Up Our Divorce (Gemma and Cassian) novel Chapter 60

**Before Rain Touches Earth Memories Return With Gentle Warmth by Eli Dane Crest**
**Chapter 60**

**Cassian**

I recline against the wall, a strange sense of guilt washing over me, as if I’ve been caught in a moment I shouldn’t be in. There’s a weight to the air, a heaviness that accompanies her inebriation, and I can’t help but wonder if questioning her like this is a mistake. Yet, this conversation feels monumental, almost like the first true exchange we’ve ever shared.

It’s as if the fog is lifting, and I’m finally beginning to see the essence of who Gemma truly is beneath the layers of her bravado.

She blinks slowly, her gaze still clouded with confusion, as if she’s struggling to piece together the fragments of her surroundings and my identity.

“How has Reyna stolen things from you?” The question slips from my lips, urgent and raw. Suddenly, it feels like the most crucial inquiry of the night.

“Reyna?” she echoes, her voice barely above a whisper, still blinking in bewilderment. “She… she has it all. My father poured every last penny into her. Education, a house, cars—designer clothes that I could only dream of. She’s not the reason he’s in debt, but she certainly didn’t help.”

As she speaks, I notice the tremor in her breath, and my heart sinks when I see tears tracing paths down her cheeks. “I thought getting married would mean I had someone on my side, but it didn’t turn out that way,” she confesses, her voice breaking.

With that, she lays back down, and I can’t tell if she’s slipped into unconsciousness or simply retreated into herself.

I’ve never considered Gemma to be fragile, but in this moment, curled up in the silvery light filtering through the window, she appears so vulnerable, so breakable.

Her words about Reyna swirl around in my mind, elusive and difficult to grasp. I’ve spent countless hours in Reyna’s presence, and I’ve never witnessed her indulge in frivolous spending.

Well, except for that one extravagant purchase—a million-dollar wedding ring for Gemma. As exquisite as that ring is, it hardly justifies the price tag.

If Reyna were here, I can almost hear her voice, sharp and accusatory, claiming manipulation. She’d assert that Gemma was merely pretending to be intoxicated, that she was spinning a web of lies.

But I can smell the alcohol lingering in the air, and I see the haze clouding Gemma’s eyes.

I know this isn’t an act.

Suddenly, Gemma begins to cough violently, her body convulsing.

I rush to her side, lifting her into my arms and making my way to the bathroom. I hold her hair back as she leans over the toilet, retching.

With a heavy sigh, I help her lean against the counter, gently wiping her face with a damp cloth and then tending to her hands. I call for a female servant, who swiftly assists her into fresh pajamas and braids her long, silky hair back.

When I return, I bring a water bottle designed for easy sipping. Gemma is nearly unconscious when I approach, her eyes fluttering shut.

I prop her up and bring the bottle to her lips, but she groans and turns her head away, annoyance etched on her features.

“Come on, just take a sip,” I coax, my fingers tracing gentle circles on the soft skin of her wrist.

I attempt to project calmness, even though I’m unsure how to comfort someone effectively. Yet, somehow, my words seem to reach her. She exhales softly and takes a few sips of water.

She drains about half the bottle before surrendering to sleep once more. I lay her back down on the bed, careful not to jostle her, and then I rise to my feet and move to the window, pulling out my phone.

“Adam,” I say when my assistant answers. “Unlock all of Gemma’s bank cards.”

*****

**Gemma**

Sleep eludes me, a restless companion that refuses to grant me solace.

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