The Don Tore Up Our Divorce (Gemma and Cassian) novel Chapter 517

Chapter 517

Cassian’s POV

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The silence on the line is a physical thing. It stretches, thin and brittle, and I know the woman on the other end is weighing the risk, the insult, the sheer audacity of Erik’s threat. When her voice returns, the synthetic distortion can’t hide the fury crackling beneath. “Have you lost your mind? Do you know what happens if you go to the police?”

Erik, his eyes locked on Mikhail’s unwavering gun, sounds breathless but stubborn. “I don’t care. You can either meet me or not.”

More silence. It’s a dangerous game. Erik feels it too; he flinches under Mikhail’s gaze. He rushes to fill the void, his voice rising in pitch. “Think it over. If your identity is exposed, neither Cassian nor Gemma’s people will let you off easily.”

A beat. Then, clipped and venomous: “Fine, we’ll meet. You set the time. But after we meet, it’s over. If you ever try to use this against me again, I won’t be so forgiving!” The line goes dead with a final, angry click.

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< Chapter 517

Mikhail plucks the phone from Erik’s limp hand, a hunter taking his trophy. He pockets it, his expression unchanging. The tool has served its purpose.

Erik crumples. The performance over, raw terror takes hold. “I’ve done what you asked. Spare me. I’m just trying to protect my mother!” He’s pleading to the room, to the universe, his voice a raw scrape of sound. I can almost hear

ghts whirling: I’m an illegitimate child. Life has never

asy. I just want my mother to go back home. What’s ong with that? A pathetic mantra. It explains nothing,

ses nothing.

That’s when I move.

I rise from the sofa. The movement is smooth, deliberate.

I cross the space and my hand closes around the grip of

Mikhail’s gun. He doesn’t resist. He understands the shift.

Mikhail’s anger is a sudden storm, violent and clean. Mine

is colder. It is the deep freeze that comes after the heat, a logical, crystalline thing. I assess, I calculate, and I act, owning every consequence. I am the don in this moment, and the sentence is clear in my mind.

Mikhail watches me. He knows what I want to do. He, the

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word.

n’t die yet.

The contempt in my eyes is more articulate than any enough to give him a cold glance. I don’t

“He’s William’s younger brother,” Mikhail continues, his tone

pragmatic. “William and Gemma get along well, almost like friends!”

The connection means nothing to me. Blood ties are accidents. “What do I care about that?” My voice is flat.

Mikhail rolls his eyes, a flash of familiar impatience. “So that’s up to Gemma’s decision. We’ll see what she wants to do with it. I guess Gemma will ask William.”

Gemma.

The name is a key. It turns in the lock of my fury. My grip on the gun relaxes, just slightly. What I care about is her. Her judgment. Her choice. I will not make decisions for her anymore. I will not be that man.

“Are you sure Gemma won’t lose her cool when she sees him?” I ask, the anger receding, replaced by cold practicality. 3/7

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< Chapter 517

“So we’ll go back first and leave him here.” Mikhail gestures with his chin, then casually points his own retrieved gun at Erik, who flinches as if already shot. Accidents happen.

Finally, I relent. I turn away, scowling, the gun now loose in my hand. “Stop the bleeding; don’t let him die.”

The bodyguard behind me nods. “Mr. Shawn, don’t worry.”

They will bandage the wound. They will keep him alive. And they will watch him. Mikhail’s men are spiders in every corner of this web; Erik won’t make it thirty feet from the door. He is a piece, temporarily off the board but still in play. I leave without another look at him, the problem deferred, the control handed back to the only person whose opinion truly

matters.

Gemma’s POV

The information from Molly lands in my gut like a stone. She gives us the address, her voice tight with warning. “[Gemma, I think you should call the police and deal with him. Don’t go on your own!]” She hasn’t told Jace.

thankfully so.

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< Chapter 517

His protectiveness is like a blunt instrument,. cutting and slashing blindly when we need a scalpel right now.

Zina meets my eye. We have the same thought without speaking. “Let’s go back first and talk it over with William,” I

say.

The urge to charge straight there is a physical pull, but it’s reckless. We need a plan, not a martyr.

Zina pats my back, her touch steadying. She sees the anxiety

that hasn’t left my face since the hospital, the invisible

distance I’ve been keeping. She feigns a scowl, her hands on

her hips.

“Gemma, I told you this illness is not that easy to catch. If you keep avoiding me, I’ll really be mad!”

The undercurrent of love is solid. I manage a small, real smile and let out a light sigh. The tension in my shoulders eases, just a fraction. “Okay, okay,” I relent, and we head back to the villa together.

The silence that greets us is all wrong.

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< Chapter 517

The house is empty. No Cassian, no sign of grandpa even the wounded Mikhail, who should be resting. The air feels still and charged, like the calm after a detonation.

Zina loops her arm through mine, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Gemma, do you think the Devil Spawn might spend his time doing something other than bickering and dueling

while you’re not around?”

She’s no fool, always seeing an undercurrent of hostility

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