Chapter 56 Who's my father
Meagan's silence was answer enough, but she spelled it out anyway. "Then Greyson becomes another casualty of Turner's organization. Owen has enough fabricated evidence to paint his own son as one of Turner's key lieutenants, someone who was in too deep to be saved."
The ruthlessness of it took Cassie's breath away. Owen wasn't just willing to sacrifice Greyson he was prepared to actively destroy him if it served his purposes. The man who had raised Greyson, who had shaped him into the man he'd become, was ready to throw him to the wolves without a second thought.
"We have the recording," Cassie said, her voice stronger than she felt. "We have proof of what Owen's done, evidence that he was the one pulling the strings all along."
Meagan's gaze flickered, and in that moment, Cassie saw something that made her blood run cold. Doubt. Fear. The look of someone who knew that the evidence they'd fought so hard to obtain might not be enough.
"Do you really think that's enough?" Meagan asked quietly. "Owen's had weeks to prepare for this. He's got lawyers, judges, politicians all in his pocket. Our recording is damning, yes, but he'll claim it was taken out of context, or that he was playing along with Turner to gather evidence. He's got resources we can't even imagine, and he's using them to rewrite history."
The hopelessness in Meagan's voice was like a punch to the gut. They'd risked everything to get that recording, had put their lives on the line to expose Owen's crimes. To think it might all be for nothing was almost unbearable.
"There has to be something else," Cassie said desperately. "Some other way to stop him."
"Maybe," Meagan agreed, but she didn't sound convinced. " we're running out of time. Owen's meeting with the Hawks tomorrow morning. Once he signs that immunity deal, once he officially becomes their star witness, it'll be almost impossible to touch him. Your ex finance is a man of many talents too . He might walk and boy is he obsessed"
Before Cassie could respond, the sound of hurried footsteps cut through the quiet morning air. Both women turned toward the path, and Cassie's heart lurched when she saw Greyson approaching at almost a run.
He looked terrible his shirt unbuttoned and hanging loose over his bandages, his hair disheveled, his face pale with exertion and pain, it was the wild panic in his eyes that made Cassie's chest tighten with guilt. She'd left him a note, but clearly it hadn't been enough to ease his fears.
When his gaze found hers, the relief that crashed over his features was so profound it was almost painful to witness. In that moment, she realized just how deeply his father's betrayals had scarred him, how desperately he needed the anchor of their relationship to feel secure.
"Cassie," he breathed, her name a prayer on his lips.
Closing the distance between them in long, determined strides, his injuries forgotten, his pain pushed aside by the overwhelming need to reach her, to confirm that she was real and safe and still there.
He didn't stop until his hands were on her shoulders, his gaze searching hers with an intensity that made her breath catch. His fingers were trembling, whether from pain or relief or fear, she couldn't tell.
"You weren't there," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "I thought..." He stopped, unable or unwilling to voice his fears, but she could see them written in every line of his face.
She reached up, covering one of his hands with hers, feeling the tremor in his fingers. "I'm right here," she said softly, putting all the reassurance she could muster into those simple words.
His grip tightened on her shoulders, just for a second, as if he needed the physical confirmation that she wasn't going anywhere. Then he was pulling her into his arms, holding her against his chest with a desperation that spoke to the depth of his fear.
Cassie melted into his embrace, feeling the rapid flutter of his heartbeat against her cheek, breathing in the familiar scent of his cologne mixed with the antiseptic smell of his bandages. She'd known he would worry when he found her gone, but she hadn't fully understood the depth of his panic until now.
Meagan watched them with something unreadable in her expression—not judgment, exactly, but a kind of sad understanding. She'd seen what Owen's manipulations had done to Greyson, had witnessed the way his father's betrayals had left him desperately insecure beneath his confident exterior.
When Greyson finally pulled back, his eyes immediately flicked to Meagan, taking in her disheveled appearance and the tension that radiated from her like heat from a flame. His expression hardened, the vulnerable man who had panicked at finding Cassie gone replaced by the sharp, dangerous person who had survived years in his father's world.
"What's happening?" he asked, his voice steady now but edged with steel.
Cassie met his gaze, seeing the moment when he braced himself for the blow she was about to deliver. "Your father's making his move."
Greyson's face went very still, his jaw tightening as he processed the implications. She could see him running through possibilities, calculating odds, preparing for whatever came next. It was the same expression he'd worn in Turner's warehouse, the look of a man who had learned to expect the worst from the people who should have protected him.
"Then so are we," he said finally, his voice carrying a quiet determination that made Cassie's heart ache with pride and fear in equal measure.She knew that whatever they did next, whatever desperate gambit they attempted to stop Owen's betrayal, it would likely cost them everything and looking at Greyson's face, she realized he knew it too.
He was willing to risk it all anyway, because some things were worth fighting for, even when the odds were impossible.
Even when the enemy was his own father.