Chapter 55 Family
"Damn it," he hissed, ending the call and immediately trying again. Maybe she'd left her phone in the room. Maybe she was just in the bathroom, or getting breakfast, or...t even as he tried to rationalize her absence, a deeper part of him knew something was wrong. Cassie wouldn't have left without telling him, not after the night they'd shared. Not when she knew how vulnerable he was right now, how much he needed her anchor in the storm that was his life.
He staggered to his feet, ignoring the way his vision swam from the sudden movement. The injuries Turner had inflicted were still healing, his body weak from days of torture and blood loss, but adrenaline was a powerful drug. Fear for Cassie's safety overrode every other consideration.
He grabbed a shirt from the chair where he'd discarded it the night before, wincing as he pulled it over his bandages. The fabric stuck to some of the wounds that hadn't fully healed, and he bit back a curse as he forced his arms through the sleeves. His hands shook as he tried to button it, and he gave up halfway, leaving it hanging open over his bandaged torso.
His shoes were by the door, and he shoved his feet into them without bothering with socks. Every movement sent fresh spikes of pain through his body, but he pushed through it. Physical pain was nothing compared to the terror of losing Cassie.
He found the note on his pillow as he was about to leave her handwriting, elegant and familiar, telling him she'd gone for a walk. The relief was immediate but short-lived. A walk where? When? How long had she been gone?
The note was meant to be reassuring, but instead it only intensified his worry. Cassie knew better than to wander around alone, especially in an unfamiliar place. She understood the dangers they faced, the constant threat that Turner represented. She wouldn't have left the villa without a damn good reason.
He tried calling her again, pacing the length of the room as the phone rang unanswered. The walls felt like they were closing in on him, the beautiful room transforming into a prison. He needed to find her, needed to make sure she was safe, needed to see for himself that she hadn't been taken.
The villa was huge, with gardens that stretched for acres in every direction. She could be anywhere—by the pool, in the lower gardens, along the cliff walk ... Or she could be gone entirely, taken by enemies who had finally tracked them down to their supposedly safe haven.
He thought about waking their security detail, the discrete team that their host had assured them was watching the perimeter. But if Cassie had simply gone for a walk, if she was safe somewhere in the gardens, raising the alarm would only create more problems. Owen had contacts everywhere; the last thing they needed was more attention. If she was in danger, every second he wasted could be the difference between finding her safe and finding her too late.
The internal debate lasted only moments before his fear won out. He had to find her, had to see with his own eyes that she was safe. Everything else his injuries, the need for secrecy, his father's threats was secondary to that single imperative.
He headed for the door, his body protesting every step but his determination absolute. Whatever it took, wherever she was, he would find her. He'd already lost too much to his father's games and Turner's brutality. He wouldn't lose Cassie too.
Not while he still had breath in his body to search for her.
Cassie found Meagan sitting on a stone bench beneath a sprawling jacaranda tree, its purple blossoms creating a carpet of color on the path around her. The morning air was crisp and clean, carrying the mingled scents of dew, earth, and the Mediterranean herbs that grew wild throughout the garden. Under normal circumstances, it would have been a perfect morning the kind that made you grateful to be alive.
There was nothing normal about the tension radiating from Meagan's rigid posture.
Meagan looked up as Cassie approached, and the change in her appearance was immediately apparent. Gone was the polished, unflappable woman. This version of Meagan looked like she hadn't slept in days. Her usually immaculate blonde hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, and there were dark circles under her eyes that no amount of concealer could hide. Her hands were wrapped around a cup of coffee that had clearly gone cold, her knuckles white with tension. Cassie couldn't help but give her a hug and she hugged her back .
"What's going on?" Cassie asked, settling beside her on the bench. The stone was cold through her linen pants, and she suppressed a shiver that had nothing to do with the temperature.
Meagan exhaled sharply, the sound carrying more weight than any words could have. She set down her coffee cup with deliberate care, as if the simple action required all her concentration. "Owen's moving faster than we thought."
The words hit Cassie like a physical blow. She'd known this moment would come had been dreading it since they'd arrived at the villa but hearing it confirmed made her stomach drop to somewhere around her ankles. "What do you mean?"
"I've been monitoring communications, tracking financial movements, watching for any sign that he was mobilizing his resources." Meagan's voice was clinical, professional, but Cassie could hear the underlying strain. "Last night, everything changed. He's already made contact with the real Hawks—not Turner's fake organization, but the actual government task force that's been investigating organized crime families."
Cassie went still, her mind racing to process the implications. The Hawks were legitimate law enforcement, the kind of people who should have been their allies in this fight against Owen's criminal empire... if Owen was talking to them...
"He's cutting a deal," Meagan continued, her voice growing harder with each word. "Giving them Turner's entire operation names, locations, financial records, everything in exchange for immunity."
The betrayal shouldn't have surprised Cassie anymore. She'd seen Owen's willingness to sacrifice anyone for his own interests, had witnessed firsthand his complete lack of paternal feeling for Greyson, this felt different, more calculated and devastating than his previous moves.
"Immunity?" Cassie's voice came out strangled. "For himself?"
Meagan nodded, her expression grim. "Complete immunity from prosecution for his role in everything the money laundering, the illegal arms deals, the cover-ups. He's positioning himself as a cooperative witness, someone who was forced into criminal activity by Turner's threats and is now willing to help law enforcement bring down the real criminals."
It was brilliant, in the most twisted way possible. Owen would emerge from this mess not just unscathed, but as a hero—the brave businessman who'd risked everything to help law enforcement. Meanwhile, Turner would take the fall for everything, his organization dismantled and his people imprisoned or worse he deserved it.
"Greyson?" Cassie asked, though she already suspected she knew the answer.
"That's where it gets complicated." Meagan's jaw tightened. "Owen's deal includes immunity for Greyson too but only if Greyson falls in line. If he agrees to corroborate Owen's story, to play the role of the dutiful son who was just following orders, then he walks away from this clean."
Cassie felt a chill that had nothing to do with the morning air. "If he doesn't?"