Page 14 of The Last Morgan
“What do we do now, Jimmy?” a woman’s voice asked calmly.
“Take Max and find what we came for,” he replied. “And Rebecca — be quick.”
Lucy’s breathing turned ragged. Sweat ran down her back. Her limbs trembled.
The door creaked open slowly.
A flood of light spilled in.
Corey stood over her. She pushed herself upright, her hands shaking, but her gaze steady.
“I have names.”
Corey didn’t interrupt.
“Jimmy.
Max.
Rebecca.”
There was no hesitation.
He gave a single nod.
“That’s where we start.”
Chapter 9
The morning light poured in, warming Lucy’s room. For the first time in years, she felt the faintest sense of clarity.
She pulled on a sleek, dark outfit, the kind of attire that warned people:I’m not someone you ignore.
Corey was already waiting outside her door.
“We need to secure the house,” she said without greeting. “If whatever Jimmy, Max, and Rebecca were after is still hidden here, then someone’s still hunting for it.”
Corey gave a slow nod, already a step ahead. “I figured you’d say that. I’ve got the perfect team for the job.” “Who?” she asked, intrigued. “The Black Doves,” he said simply. Her eyebrows rose. The name was familiar. “Aren’t they…” “Ex-assassins,” Corey confirmed with a smirk. “Well, supposedly. They’ve gone ‘straight and narrow,’ but let’s just say their definition of legal is flexible. They don’t work cheap, but they’re the best. No one gets past them.”
The conversation ended abruptly as the front doors opened.
Her aunt and cousins returned like they owned the place.
“Good morning, Lucy,” Lillian said smoothly, placing a folder on the table. “Your financials. You're—very wealthy.”
“How do I access it?” Lucy asked, flipping through the report.
“Marpo Bank on the boulevard. You have a private manager,” Lillian replied, her smile tightening.
“And what about you?” Lucy asked, eyes pinned to her.
Lillian hesitated. “We’d like to remain in the house. If that’s possible?”
“You can. But stay out of the master study and my bedroom.”
Lillian nodded, “Naturally. And the staff? Any food preferences—?”
“I’ll leave them to you,” Lucy cut in. “Just keep the house running. I’ll review the costs later, no preferences.”
