The Don Tore Up Our Divorce (Gemma and Cassian) novel Chapter 489

Chapter 489

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Gemma’s POV

The explanation leaves Cassian, William, and me in stunned silence. Peter beat his own son, his heir, over a woman? The logic is insane, the action monstrous. We watch as Jeremy is finally wheeled out of recovery, pale but conscious beneath the harsh fluorescent lights. Zina is at his side in an instant, her earlier ferocity melting into a relief so profound it brings silent tears streaking down her cheeks.

Jeremy, despite the bandages swathing his shaved head, manages a weak smile. He lifts a heavy hand to brush a tear from her face. “You are worried about me,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse. “It seems I didn’t care for you for nothing.”

The romanticism is so misplaced, so Jeremy, that Zina’s tearful relief flickers with the clear desire to punch him. She restrains herself, but just barely. He looks awful, vulnerable in a way I’ve never seen him. The image clicks into place–the patient with the smashed head I saw being rushed to the OR as I fetched Mikhail’s phone. It was Jeremy. The timing wasn’t a coincidence; it was a collision,

Once the doctor confirms Jeremy is stable, just concussed and leeding observation, Zina pulls me aside, her anger returning

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< Chapter 489

“But why?” I ask, struggling to comprehend. “What could possibly justify that?”

A bitter, incredulous sneer twists Zina’s lips. “Because Jeremy

showed him proof. Pictures of Haley with another man. Peter refused to believe it. He accused Jeremy of fabricating it to steal shares of the Opal Group.”

I frown, the pieces not fitting. “Peter shouldn’t be that stupid.” He’s a shrewd, if morally bankrupt, businessman. Blind trust isn’t in his nature.

“Since he decided to marry that gold–digging viper,” Zina retorts, “it’s clear he’s not in his right mind!”

There’s no reasoning with her fury, and perhaps she’s right. I leave her to sit with Jeremy and step out into the hallway where Cassian and William are waiting, a wall of concerned masculinity.

“About Peter and this Haley,” I say, leaning against the cool wall. “Does any of this feel… off to you?”

Cassian ponders for a moment, his brow furrowed. “Haley,” he says slowly. “She looks familiar.”

His words startle me. “You know her?”

Hershakes his head. “No. Not personally. But I have a pling3:58

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< Chapter 489

I am stunned. Who is Adda?

“What,” Cassian says, his voice dangerously calm, “is the meaning of this?” He is a cleanliness freak. His eyes sweep over the scene—empty bottles on the coffee table, a stack of plates by the sink, a stranger I assume is Adda happily frying something at our stovetop. I see a nerve jump in his jaw.

Mikhail, blissfully unconcerned, gestures around the room. “Neighbors.”

“What?” The word is a flat echo from all three of us.

Seeing our confusion, he elaborates, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. “They all smelled the spicy barbecue. Came over to investigate. We’re all neighbors!” He shrugs. “Seemed rude not to invite them in to share. Reminds me of my troop back in Nassau Islands. Good times.”

The “neighbors“, consisting of a vibrant mix of young professionals and older couples, are indeed enthusiastic. One woman compliments the minimalist decor, another man raves about William’s marinade, saying he’s never tasted anything like

1. it.

Their smiles are genuine, their gratitude apparent. It’s a bizarre, impromptu international block party, hosted by our convalescing fugitive.

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