Chapter 65 Kelly
As soon as Greyson dropped off Liam at school he headed to work and did what needed to be done.
The parking garage beneath Greyson Christianson O'Malley's downtown Johannesburg office building was nearly empty at 4:15 PM, shadows stretching long between the concrete pillars. His footsteps echoed as he walked toward his BMW, mind already on the evening ahead. He'd picked up Cassie's favorite flowers—white roses—and had them waiting in the passenger seat, along with a small velvet box that had been burning a hole in his pocket all week. He'd taken Cassie's ring size and raided her Pinterest boards to see which style she loved, asked a friend for a favour and they came through.
Not an engagement ring—they were already married, but something else. Something that symbolized the new beginning they were building together, the family they were becoming.
He was thinking about Liam's excited chatter that morning about the drawing he'd made, about the way Cassie's eyes still lit up when she smiled at him, when the footsteps behind him changed rhythm.
Two sets of shoes, moving with purposeful precision.
Greyson's combat training from his brief military stint kicked in automatically. He slowed his pace, listening, calculating distances to exits, cataloging potential weapons. Living as an O'Malley had taught him that danger could come from anywhere, at any time.
"Greyson O'Malley?"
He turned, taking in the two men approaching him. Mid-forties, cheap suits, the kind of confident swagger that screamed law enforcement. One was tall and lean with prematurely gray hair, the other shorter and stockier with intelligent dark eyes. Both had their hands positioned near their waistbands in a way that wasn't quite threatening but wasn't casual either.
"Yeah?" Greyson kept his voice neutral, his body relaxed but ready.
"Detective Morrison, Johannesburg Central SAPS." The taller one flashed a badge. "This is Detective Rodriguez. We need you to come with us."
"What's this about?"
Instead of answering, Morrison stepped closer, his partner moving to flank Greyson from the left. The practiced choreography of an arrest.
"Greyson Christianson O'Malley, you're under arrest for conspiracy to commit fraud, embezzlement, and money laundering in connection with O'Malley Industries financial irregularities dating from 2018 to 2020."
The words hit like physical blows. Before Greyson could process what was happening, Rodriguez had moved behind him, cold metal clicking around his wrists.
"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law..."
The Miranda rights faded into background noise as Greyson's mind raced. 2018 to 2020—the period right after his father had stepped back from active management, when Greyson had been trying to modernize the company's financial systems. Every transaction from that time had been meticulously documented, audited by three separate firms.
This wasn't about actual crimes. This was about someone with enough influence to manipulate the system, someone with access to financial records and the connections to turn legitimate business decisions into something that looked criminal.
Someone like Jake Turner.
The ride to the police station passed in a blur of Johannesburg traffic and growing dread. Not for himself. Matteo Rossi was the best defense attorney money could buy, and the charges were obviously fabricated. He sighed. Cassie would be waiting at dinner, checking her phone, growing worried.
If Jake was bold enough to have him arrested on trumped-up charges, what else was he planning?
The booking process was deliberately humiliating. Photos, fingerprints, personal effects catalogued and confiscated. They took his phone, his wallet, his watch—the Prema that had been his father's wedding gift, engraved with the O'Malley family motto: Semper Fidelis Familiae.
Always faithful to family.
The irony wasn't lost on him.
They put him in a holding cell with three other men; a drunk who kept mumbling about his ex-wife, a kid who couldn't have been more than nineteen with tear tracks on his cheeks, and a middle-aged businessman who sat in perfect silence, staring at the wall like he was seeing his entire life collapse in real time.
Greyson understood the feeling.
His one phone call went to Matteo Rossi's emergency line.
"Greyson?" Matteo's voice was sharp with concern. "Where are you?"
"Downtown holding. They arrested me on fraud charges tied to the 2018-2020 financial restructuring."
Silence stretched for several seconds. Matteo was one of the few people who knew the full scope of what had happened during those years...the threats, the sabotage attempts, the careful maneuvering required to keep O'Malley Industries from being destroyed by competitors who wanted to see the family empire crumble.
"Jake Turner filed the complaint this morning," Matteo said finally, his voice grim. "It's not just about business, Greyson. He knows about Cassie. About your marriage—he's angry."
Ice flooded Greyson's veins. "He's going after her I can feel it in my boys."
"I'm already on my way to the station. I'll be honest with you, getting you out tonight is going to be difficult. The charges are serious, and Turner has friends in high places. It might take until tomorrow."
"Tomorrow might be too late."
Matteo's pause spoke volumes. "I'll do everything I can. In the meantime, don't talk to anyone. Don't answer any questions. Just wait for me."
The line went dead, leaving Greyson alone with his fears and the growing certainty that this was all an elaborate distraction. While he sat helplessly in a cell, Jake was free to make his next move.
An hour passed. Then another. The drunk was taken away, replaced by a man with gang tattoos who eyed everyone with suspicious hostility. The teenager had stopped crying and was now staring at the floor with the hollow expression of someone whose life had just changed irrevocably.
Greyson paced the small space like a caged animal, his mind running through every possible scenario. Jake had money, connections, and eight years of rage fueling his vendetta. He'd proven he was willing to manipulate the legal system to get what he wanted. What else was he capable of?
At 6:47 PM, a guard appeared at the cell door.
"O'Malley. You have a visitor."
Greyson expected to see Matteo striding down the hallway, briefcase in hand, ready to work legal miracles. Instead, he found himself face-to-face with Kelly, Cassie's assistant, her usually perfect composure shattered.
She'd been crying. Her makeup was smeared, her hands shaking as she sat across from him in the small consultation room.
"Kelly? What are you doing here? How did you even know I was..."
"I have contacts at the courthouse," she said quickly. "From my previous job. I heard about the arrest warrant this afternoon."
"Does Cassie know?" She shook her head. "She's at dinner with your family. She thinks you're just running late."
Relief and terror warred in Greyson's chest. At least she was safe for now, surrounded by people who would protect her. But that safety was temporary.
"Listen to me," he said urgently. "Jake Turner is behind this. He's going to go after Cassie next. You need to call my father, tell him—"
"There's something else," Kelly interrupted, her voice barely above a whisper. "Something Cassie doesn't know I'm here, and she'll probably fire me for telling you, but..."
She took a shuddering breath.
"She's pregnant. She went home early not feeling well."