The Don Tore Up Our Divorce (Gemma and Cassian) novel Chapter 526

Chapter 526

Gemma’s POV

I retreat into my room before Mikhail’s guests are supposed to arrive.

I would like to stay curled on the sofa with a book, enjoying the quiet hum of the refrigerator as the only sound in the house, while I still can.

Mikhail is in the kitchen, making a valiant attempt at creating a marinade for the barbecue he has planned. His muttered curses at the spice rack are a low background noise, notifying me of every development.

My phone buzzes against the armrest. I glance at the screen. Christopher.

I answer with a smile. “Hey, we were just about to-”

“Gemma.” His voice is tight, strained in a way I’ve never heard before. “I… I just left my house, please stay with me on the call for a little bit.”

I sit up, the book sliding forgotten to the floor. “What? Why-? Are you okay…?”

ANS.”

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“I felt someone watching me again.”

After this confession, the remaining words come out in a rush. “I know you said it was nothing last time, but Gemma, I swear. I was sitting in my study, and I just… I knew something was wrong. I couldn’t stay there… I’ve been driving for twenty minutes, and I don’t even know where I’m going.”

My stomach tightens as I feel the waves of anxiety coming from him.

He’s scared; genuinely, deeply scared.

“Come to the villa,” I say immediately, my voice steady despite the discomfort coiling in my chest. “We’re having a barbecue tonight. It’ll be good. You can stay as long as you need.”

“Are you sure?”

He sounds relieved, grateful, embarrassed all at once.

“Of course. Just get here safely.”

I hang up and go to the kitchen. Mikhail emerges, a smudge of something dark on his cheek, holding a bottle of soy sauce like a weapon. “Who was that?”

“Christopher. He’s coming over.” I’m already reaching for my laptop, a different instinct taking over. “He said he felt pmqqneg

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laptop. “You’re pulling up the cameras?”

I nod, my fingers already navigating to the security interface. We installed the system at Christopher’s house months ago, after the first time he mentioned feeling watched. We’d checked then, found nothing. Chalked it up to stress, to a writer’s overactive imagination.

Now, my gut tells me we were wrong.

The feed loads. I pull up the main living area, but it’s empty. The kitchen: empty, so is the hallway. Everything looks normal, untouched. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

“Maybe he was just-” I start.

“Rewind,” Mikhail says quietly.

His voice is low, and I glance at him. His jaw is set, his eyes fixed on the screen. I click the playback, dragging the timeline back an hour. Two hours. Three.

Then I see it.

A figure moves through the hallway. Black dress, black hat, a mask that covers everything but the eyes. The person walks with an unnerving precision, each step deliberate, unhurried. They know the layout. They know exactly where they’re going.

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< Chapter 526

jewelry, no electronics, no valuables. Instead, they pick up a rag and a spray bottle from somewhere–did they bring it with them?—and begin to wipe down the coffee table. Methodically. Thoroughly.

I feel the cold start at the base of my skull and creep down my spine.

The footage skips forward. The figure moves from room to room, dusting, mopping, arranging pillows. The intimacy of it is grotesque, a violation that feels worse than any robbery. This isn’t about money, it’s about claiming the space.

I watch, transfixed, as the figure eventually makes their way to Christopher’s bedroom. They remove the hat, the mask, but the angle is wrong–we can’t see the face. They lie down on his bed… on his bed.

They pull the blanket up, and they sleep. For two hours, the screen shows nothing but the slow rise and fall of a stranger’s breathing in Christopher’s room.

Mikhail makes a sound low in his throat, something like a groan of frustration. I don’t look at him, I can’t look away from the screen, either.

Then the figure stirs. They rise, make the bed with military precision, and move to the closet. They pull out shirts, trousers, ajacket. They take them to the laundry room. And fore next 18

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< Chapter 526

The doorbell rings.

I nearly jump out of my skin. Mikhail’s hand closes over my shoulder, steadying. “I’ve got it,” he says, his voice low and calm. He glances at the screen, then back at me. “Close it.”

I close the laptop.

The sound of the door opening, voices in the hallway. Christopher’s voice, still a little too high, a little too fast. I school my face into something neutral, something welcoming. By the time he walks into the living room, I’ve tucked my trembling hands beneath my thighs.

He looks pale. His hair is slightly disheveled, his clothes rumpled. He’s trying to smile, trying to be the easygoing friend we know, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Hey,” he says, his voice a little sheepish. “Sorry for the dramatic entrance. I feel like an idiot.”

“Don’t,” I say, and I’m proud of how steady my voice sounds. “You’re always welcome here. We’re glad you came.”

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