The Don Tore Up Our Divorce (Gemma and Cassian) novel Chapter 466

Chapter 466
Gemma's POV 

The fluorescent lights of the hospital hallway hum above us, a sterile white noise. I stare at the DNA report until the numbers burn into my vision. 

99.99%?!

My finger comes up, almost of its own accord, and points at my own nose. My eyes feel wide, stretched with a surprise that hasn’t sunk in yet.

“Me?” I finally say, the word a dry croak. “A Bernard?”

Even with my limited contact, I know. The Bernards’ influence overseas is a whispered legend, a fortress of old money and power. Their international reach is vast, deeper and wider than the Blackwells’ domestic empire. If you put them side-by-side, the Bernards might even have the edge.

Harry nods, his expression solemn. “At first, Aunt Meredith and I weren’t sure either. We only believed it after the report came out. Meredith has already returned to the family to inform them. That’s why she sent me to tell you.”

My mind reels back. Meredith finding me, saving me, her eyes always holding that strange, aching intensity. She was looking for her sister. The pieces snap together with a cold, logical click. A missing heiress. A family searching. My skin prickles.

“The Bernards…” I start, my voice dropping. Suspicion, my old armor, slides into place. “Could it be someone who’s critically ill? Needing a bone marrow match? Or a kidney?” The words sound cynical even to me, but they spill out. “Or maybe the family is in some kind of trouble. They need a scapegoat, someone to take the fall from the outside…”

Harry’s face softens into a look of pure exasperation. He shakes his head, a faint smile on his lips. “No, no. It’s not like that. Not at all. They just… they want to make it up to you. You must have suffered so much, all these years outside.” He leans forward slightly. “Aunt Meredith always says you’re… innocent.”

Innocent. The word hangs there. I feel a twist in my chest. Who isn’t innocent, in some way? And yet, the way he says it, it feels like an absolution for a crime I never committed.

“I still don’t understand,” I whisper, more to myself than to him. “How does this even happen?”

“The details are complicated,” Harry admits, running a hand through his hair. “It’s better to wait for Meredith. She can explain it properly. She’s already on a plane back to Florisdale. She lands tonight.”

I feel Cassian shift beside me. He’s been quiet, a solid, watchful presence. I can almost hear the gears turning in his head. The Bernards and the Blackwells were once close, allies even, before the Bernards moved their base overseas. I’ve seen old Mr. Blackwell on calls with Bernard associates, maintaining that thread of connection across continents. A cold realization dawns on Cassian’s face; he sucks in a sharp, quiet breath. Could Grandpa have known? The unspoken question vibrates in the space between us. This isn’t just a personal shock; it’s a political tremor.

The door to Mikhail’ room clicks open then, and Linda steps out. Her face is a portrait of devastation, pale and tear-streaked. Cassian and I exchange a glance. We’re used to this drama by now, this cycle of hope and heartbreak she seems trapped in with Mikhail. We say nothing.

But Harry, perhaps trying to pivot the conversation, to solidify my new, awkward place, speaks up. His voice is cheerful, oblivious. “Hey, Aunt Gemma, since the baby is Mikhail’, you guys are definitely getting married, right? Don’t worry. The Bernards won’t let you be bullied. We’ll make sure it’s done right.”

His words are a physical blow. To me, to Linda, to the fragile quiet of the hallway. Linda’s eyes, already swimming, overflow. A soft, wounded sound escapes her before she presses a hand to her mouth and hurries away. Harry’s confident smile falters. He looks from her retreating back to my horrified expression, and his own face floods with color. He scratches the back of his head, sheepish. “I… I didn’t mean…”

“It’s fine,” I mutter, though it isn’t. Nothing is fine.

*

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