Page 19 of The Last Morgan
“It’s fine,” she said, her voice calm. “This is a tactic. My uncle wants to rattle me before I even get through the elevator doors.”
She turned back to Gerald. “You’re not the enemy here. But do understand this — his days of giving orders are numbered.”
Without waiting for permission, she strode toward the lifts.
Security moved.
Hands twitched toward belts. A silent formation began to tighten.
But then — they were surrounded.
Her Doves.
The Dove of all Doves stepped forward — the grey-eyed one. He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. He stepped between Lucy and the guards with smooth, deadly efficiency, his stare alone forcing them to hesitate.
Another Dove moved to Gerald’s desk, calmly placing his gun on top of it. A silent message.
The tension in the air thickened.
“Move,” Lucy said coolly. “Or lose your job too.”
The security guards hesitated — then stepped back.
Corey followed at her side, shoulders squared, and behind them, the Dove — still unnamed — moved in silence. She would make a point of learning his name later.
“What floor is he on, Gerald?” Corey asked.
Gerald sighed, then spoke clearly. “Top floor. Executive suite.”
“Thanks,” Lucy said, pressing the button for the lift.
The elevator let out a soft chime, and the polished chrome doors slid open smoothly. Lucy stepped out first.
Every stride she took echoed with purpose, her heels clacking against the marble tiles like a war drum. Corey walked beside her, calm but alert, his eyes scanning the environment asif expecting a trap at every turn. Behind them, the grey-eyed enigma followed in silence, keeping a comfortable but commanding distance.
There were people watching from behind glass office walls—executives and assistants. Some pretending to type, others pretending not to stare. But all of them watched as the ghost of the Morgan family legacy walked back into their kingdom.
Lucy paused outside the tall, double oak doors of the main boardroom. There was a moment of quiet before she pushed them open.
The room was full. Twelve board members sat at the long, sleek black table. Some faces she recognized from photographs. Others were unfamiliar, but the stares and dirty looks from them all made it quite clear; they did not come in peace. At the head, Richard, her uncle stood with his arms crossed, flanked by two legal advisors.
"Ah," Richard said smoothly, "The prodigal niece returns."
Lucy took a breath. Not too deep. Just enough to steady her fire. She stepped fully into the room.
"Good morning," she said, voice cool. "You’re in my chair."
A ripple of laughter from the table made Lucy feel a little uneasy. Richard didn’t move.
"Things have changed, Lucy," he said. "This company has evolved in your absence. We thought you might appreciate easing back in."
Lucy walked slowly to the other end of the table, running her fingers along the edge.
"It's unnecessary, I will just take my rightful place"
Richard shifted, just a flicker. "But you lack Experience, this is theatrical, surely you can see this doesn't make sense."
Lucy turned to him, the faintest smile playing on her lips. "You think this is theatrical?"
