Page 28 of The Last Morgan

Perfect.

Pulling himself out of bed with the weight of a mission on his back, Barnaby made his way to the workbench. He tapped a few keys on his laptop and sat down, entering a zone of complete focus. Within moments, he was in deep. His fingers flew across the keyboard as lines of code streamed down the screens.

He dived hard, lost in a digital jungle of loops, shadows, and firewalls. His eyes flickered between monitors, reading data like a second language. As he hacked deeper into the system and patched his spyware across the multiple interfaces, he grinned to himself.

It was working.

He was building something entirely new—a digital spider-web software that not only tracked intrusion attempts but flagged every manipulation, every odd footprint in the system. It wasn't just a reactionary defense. It was a trap.

Barnaby was so immersed that he hadn’t noticed the sky shifting outside his windows. Hours passed, but he remained at his station, sucked into a maze of networks, connections, and coding branches. When he finally leaned back in his chair, rubbing the exhaustion from his eyes, he saw the orange-pink glow of dawn creeping into his suite.

4:03 AM.

The first stage was done.

He had created a program that would now monitor Lucy’s systems, both at home and at the Morgan Group, with one central command. Any data spike, reroute, or foreign access would trigger an alert. "Not bad for one night's work," hemumbled, dragging himself to the bed. A couple more hours of sleep before breakfast should do the trick.

But rest barely wrapped him in its grasp when there was a knock at the door.

"Breakfast is in half an hour. Get ready," Corey called.

"Thanks, Corey," Barnaby groaned, rubbing his face and yawning. He rolled out of bed, hit the shower, and quickly packed his usual essentials: laptop, drive sticks, and a few extra cables—just in case.

As he stepped out of his room, the hallway still draped in the soft quiet of early morning, another door opened.

Sarah.

She paused mid-step, surprised to see someone else on the landing.

She flinched slightly but recovered fast, flashing him a demure smile. "Oh, hello," she said, looking him over slowly. Her long curly blonde hair cascaded over her silk robe. Her bright blue eyes studied him with interest.

Barnaby, however, did not pause. He gave her a small nod and continued walking without a word.

Sarah’s jaw twitched. She was not used to that. People—especially men—noticed her. Commented. Fumbled over themselves. But Barnaby did not even blink.

Who does this guy think he is? she thought.

And just like that, Barnaby was on her radar.

Downstairs, the breakfast table was already half full. Richard sat at the head, reading a paper. Lillian was making idle chatter with Jackson, who looked bored as usual. Lucy was alreadyseated with Corey to her right. When Barnaby entered, the room quieted.

Lillian looked up, lips twisting slightly. "Oh? Another houseguest?"

Richard peered over the top of his paper. "Looks like we're taking in every riff-raff under the sun," he muttered.

Lucy didn’t miss it. "What was that?" she said, eyes sharp.

"Oh, nothing, Lucy."

"Who is this?" Richard said.

"He’s Barnaby," Lucy said firmly, standing slightly. "He’s a brother to me. And I expect him to be treated as such."

Barnaby looked slightly uncomfortable but nodded respectfully. He sat down next to Lucy, eyes on the plate set in front of him.

He was starving.

Within seconds, he was shoveling eggs, toast, and bacon into his mouth, chewing at lightning speed. He almost choked on the last bite.