Chapter 139 Nothing would ever be the same
Greyson
My father saw people as pawns, chess pieces to be moved around his board or removed when they became inconvenient. Weaknesses to be identified and pruned before they could threaten the whole. It was how he'd built our empire, how he'd held it against rivals and federal investigators and the slow grind of changing times. Everything was subordinate to the family, to the business, to the dynasty he intended to leave behind.
Cassie wasn't a weakness. The realization hit me with the force of certainty, clean and absolute. She was my only real strength, the only thing in my life that felt genuine and uncontaminated by calculation. When I was with her, I wasn't Greyson O'Malley, heir to a criminal empire, keeper of secrets and enforcers of will. I was just... myself. A version of myself I'd forgotten existed, or maybe had never been allowed to exist.
I had no intention of losing her.
Not for my father's approval. Not for the family business. Not even to keep her safe, because I was beginning to understand that a life without her wasn't safety—it was just another kind of prison.
I pulled out my phone and typed a quick message: Something came up. Had to fly to New York for a few days. Call me when you can? I want to hear your voice.
I stared at it for a long moment, then deleted the last sentence. Too much, too vulnerable. If the Massas were monitoring communications and they probably were,I couldn't afford to give them more ammunition. I retyped: Had to fly to New York for business. Back soon. We should talk.
Professional. Distant. Exactly what my father would want.
I deleted it all and started over: New York called. Missing you already. Stay safe.
Before I could second-guess myself, I hit send. Then I grabbed my bag and headed for the door, already planning how I was going to handle New York, the Massas, and my father's expectations without losing the one thing that had made me feel alive in years.
The drive to the airport was quiet. Cole, my driver and occasional bodyguard, knew better than to make small talk when I was in a mood. He navigated the morning traffic with the ease of long practice while I stared out the window, watching Johannesburg slide past. The city looked different this morning—harder, colder, more dangerous. Or maybe that was just my perspective shifting, now that I had something to lose.
My phone buzzed. For a moment, hope flared maybe Cassie had seen my message and was calling. It was just my father's lieutenant, confirming the flight details and the hotel reservation in Manhattan. Everything organized, everything controlled. The O'Malley machine running smoothly, grinding forward whether I wanted it to or not.
At the airport, I went through the private terminal, bypassing security and the crowds. Another privilege of the family business we kept police,CEOs and foreign dignitaries on the payroll, people who smoothed the way for our operations and asked no uncomfortable questions. The pilot greeted me professionally, and within twenty minutes we were wheels up, Johannesburg shrinking beneath us as we climbed into the clouds.
I tried calling Cassie once we reached cruising altitude. The phone rang three times before going to voicemail. Her voice, bright and professional: "Hi, you've reached Cassie. I can't take your call right now, but leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can."
The beep sounded, and I found myself without words. What could I say that wouldn't sound insane or paranoid or both? "Hey, just wanted to make sure you're okay. By the way, a rival crime family might be targeting you because of me, so maybe stay home and lock your doors?"
"It's me," I said finally. "Just... call me back when you can. Please."
I hung up, dissatisfied with my own vagueness but not sure how to do better. The flight attendant offered me coffee, then breakfast, both of which I declined. My stomach was in knots, anxiety coiling through me in a way I hadn't felt since... I couldn't remember when. Even during active conflicts with rivals, even when the feds had come sniffing around our operations, I'd maintained a cool detachment. But this was different. This was personal in a way that business never was.
I pulled out my laptop and tried to focus on work. The files Liam had prepared sat in my inbox—property assessments, financial reports, intelligence on the Massa family's current vulnerabilities. I scanned through them mechanically, my mind only half-engaged. The Massas were indeed overextended, their resources stretched thin by poor investments and internal conflicts. It was an opportunity, just as my father had said. We could move against them now, consolidate power, emerge from this stronger than ever.
At what cost?
The question nagged at me. Every action in this life had consequences that rippled outward. If we moved against the Massas, they would retaliate. And if they knew about Cassie, if they decided to use her as leverage...
My hands clenched into fists on the laptop keyboard. No. I wouldn't let it come to that. There had to be a way to protect her without either abandoning her or dragging her deeper into this world. I just had to find it.
The plane began its descent into New York, and I looked out at the city sprawling below. Somewhere down there, the Massas were conducting their own business, making their own plans. And somewhere back in South Africa, Cassie was starting her day, unaware of the currents swirling around her.
I pulled out my phone one more time and sent another message: Please call me. It's important.
Then I closed my eyes and tried to prepare myself for whatever came next, knowing that the careful balance I'd maintained for years was about to collapse, and when it did, nothing would ever be the same.