Page 43 of The Last Morgan
"What is she up to?" she asked. Barnaby narrowed his eyes at the screen, adjusting his glasses.
"It’s not totally clear," he said slowly, "but she just tried to access your home security system."
Lucy stiffened.
"Can she get in?"
Barnaby smirked darkly.
"Obviously not. I gave her what she thinks is access — Smoke and mirrors."
Lucy exhaled in relief.
"So, you think she’s going to be bold enough to just... show up. Here. Just like that?"
Before anyone could answer, Corey snatched his phone off the counter, punching in a number with urgency.
"I know you were meant to start at the end of the week," Corey barked into the receiver, "but can you start today? Great. See you soon. I’ll get your room ready."
He hung up and pocketed his phone, turning to Lucy.
"Uh, who was that?" she asked, lifting an eyebrow.
Corey shrugged like it was no big deal.
"Damian," he said simply. "Your extra personal bodyguard. He’s on his way."
The atmosphere shifted immediately.
Byron, who had been perched like a silent shadow against the wall, lifted his head slowly.
His silver eyes — normally so lazy, so unreadable — sharpened like blades.
"Is another guard necessary?" Byron asked.
The tension crackled through the air like static.
Lucy swore the temperature dropped a few degrees as the two men stared each other down — like lions measuring each other across a kill.
Corey, completely unfazed, crossed his arms.
"I don't know who the threat is," he said calmly, "and if I did, sure, I'd be happy taking care of Lucy alone. But we don't know. So until we do—"
He smiled grimly.
"She gets round-the-clock protection."
Lucy could feel Byron vibrating next to her — fury barely held on a leash.
"You both can take shifts," Corey added pointedly, "watching over Lucy."
Byron’s lip curled into a sneer.
"Shifts," he muttered under his breath, like Corey had suggested something vile.
The word dripped with disgust.
Lucy, sensing the weird energy swirling thickly around her, clapped her hands together, forcing brightness into her tone.
