Dangerously His: THE MAFIA’S HEART

CHAPTER 4: WHEN PREDATORS NOTICE YOU

(Lucy’s POV)

Winning is supposed to feel good. What I feel right now is nowhere near good.

First, I notice the numbers.

The Riverside project schedule sits open on my tablet as I scan the timeline again. Every box is checked, but the progress seems relatively slower than it should be. Too slow.

Then, I see it! The Delays.

Construction partner: Pending confirmation. Material supplier: Awaiting updated request. Transport coordination: Delayed response. This isn’t normal.

My office door opens without a knock. Daniel walks in holding his tablet like he’s already halfway through bad news.

“Hope you're about to say something good,” I say without looking up. He hesitates, and that's never a good sign. I immediately get the memo.

“Well,” he begins cautiously, “the zoning confirmation went through again this morning. Legal triple-checked everything; hence, that part is solid.”

“And the rest?” I ask.

Daniel shifts his weight. “That’s where it gets strange.” Now he has my full attention.

“Three contractors suddenly asked for additional risk assessments,” he says. “One logistics company backed out of the transport agreement entirely.”

“They were eager two days ago, so what changed?” I ask, now sounding very curious.

Daniel rubs the back of his neck. “That’s the thing. Nothing… officially.”

The word "officially" hangs in the air. I lean forward slowly. “What are you not saying, Daniel?” He hesitates again before answering.

“We started hearing the same name come up during the calls.”

My eyes narrow slightly. “Which name?” he exhales.

“Clarke Holdings.”

The room goes quiet. Lucas Clarke? Of course. How did I not think of this soon enough?

For a moment I say nothing, simply absorbing the information. “So,” I say calmly, “he’s asking questions.” Daniel nods. Just pressure. Carefully placed pressure.

I lean back in my chair again and stare at the ceiling.

Interesting. Very interesting.

“So he lost the deal,” I say slowly, “and now he’s circling the water like a shark?”

Daniel doesn’t respond. He doesn’t need to. We both know the answer. I push my chair back and stand.

“Is he stopping the project?” I ask. “No,” Daniel says quickly. “Not exactly.”

“Then I’m not interested.”

Daniel looks slightly surprised. “You’re not concerned?”

I pick up the Riverside file and slide it neatly back into place.

“Concerned would mean he has leverage,” I reply.

He watches me carefully. “He’s Lucas Clarke, Lucy.”

“Yes,” I say calmly. “And he should’ve shown up to the negotiation if he wanted the property badly enough.”

Daniel sighs. “You’re not intimidated at all, are you?”

I meet his gaze. “No.” Not even slightly.

If Lucas Clarke wants to play corporate chess, he should’ve sat at the table with the rest of us.

He didn’t. Which means he lost. And I don’t plan on apologizing for that.

“Lucy,” Daniel says carefully behind me.

“Yes?”

“There’s one more thing.”

I turn back toward him. “What?”

He scrolls through his tablet again.

“Clarke Holdings has also been buying land.” My expression doesn’t change. “Developers buy land every day,” I say.

“Not like this.” He turns the screen toward me. Then I noticed something. He bought every property that sits on streets surrounding Riverside.

A slow realization settles in my chest.

Lucas Clarke isn’t trying to take Riverside back. He’s building a circle around it. A castle

Daniel studies my face. “You see it now, don’t you?”

“Yes,” I say quietly. “So what do we do?” he asks.

I close the file. Then I grab my coat from the chair.

“We stop guessing,” I say.

Daniel frowns. “What does that mean?”

I walk toward the door. “It means I’m done playing detective.”

“Lucy—”

“I’m going to ask him myself.”

Daniel blinks. “You’re… what?”

“I’m going to Clarke Holdings," I retort.

“Without an appointment?”

I open the door. “Yes.”

Daniel looks like he’s about to argue, and then he stops. “Lucy,” he says slowly, “you’re walking straight into the headquarters of one of the most powerful men in this industry.”

I glance back at him. “Good,” I reply calmly as I walk out. Forty minutes later, I’m standing inside the glass lobby of Clarke Holdings Group.

The building looks exactly like I expected. It's tall, quiet, and expensive, like power dressed in architecture.

“Good afternoon, Do you have an appointment?” The receptionist behind the marble desk looks up and asks politely.

"No," I respond.

Her smile tightens slightly. “Mr. Clarke only sees scheduled guests.”

I step closer to the desk. “Then tell him Lucy Morgan is here.”

She hesitates just for a moment, and then she picks up the phone.

A short conversation follows, and her expression changes completely. “He’ll see you,” she says.

Of course he will. I follow the assistant down a quiet hallway toward the executive floor. The assistant stops in front of a large office door and gestures toward it. “Mr. Clarke is inside.”

I nod once, then I open the door and walk in.

The first thing I notice is the smoke. It's not harsh or suffocating. The second thing I notice is him; he is standing near the window with the city stretched behind him like it’s part of his empire.

He doesn’t look surprised to see me; not even a little. In fact, he looks like he’s been expecting this.

His gaze drifts toward me slowly, measuring and calm, like a predator.

“Ms. Morgan,” he says, his voice low and even; it sounds like acknowledgment. I close the door behind me and walk further into the office.

“You like making things difficult, don’t you?” I say.

The corner of his mouth twitches slightly. “That’s an interesting way to start a conversation.”

“I prefer honest ones," I reply.

He watches me for a moment before taking a slow drag from the cigarette. Then he crushes it calmly in the ashtray beside him.

“So,” he says, turning fully toward me now, “you came all the way here to accuse me of something?”

I cross my arms. “Contractors backing out. Suppliers delaying responses. Investors suddenly ask unnecessary questions.” I hold his gaze. “That’s not coincidence.”

Lucas studies me quietly. Then he walks toward his desk.

“Sit,” he says casually. “I’m fine standing.”

He pauses. Then looks back at me again. “Of course you are.” There’s something about the way he says it that feels almost amused.

I ignore it. “If you want the Riverside project,” I continue, “then come for it properly. Don’t play games behind closed doors.”

Lucas leans lightly against the edge of his desk. “And what exactly do you think I’m doing?”

“You’re applying pressure.”

“And?”

“And it’s unprofessional.” I blurt out.

That makes him smile. “You’re very confident,” he says. He studies me like he’s examining something rare.

Then he pushes away from the desk and begins walking toward me slowly. Each step feels calculated. He stops just close enough for me to notice the faint scent of smoke and expensive cologne.

“You know,” he says quietly, “most people would be nervous standing in this room.”

“I’m not most people.” I reply. “No,” he agrees softly.

He lifts His hand, and before I can react, his fingers brush a loose strand of hair away from my face. The movement is slow, casual, and deliberate, and my entire body freezes.

Lucas tilts his head slightly, studying me. “You’re too feisty,” he murmurs, his voice lowering. “For someone this beautiful.” His hand drops slowly. “Where’s your soft energy, Ms. Morgan?”

I take a small step back in a professional and controlled manner.

“I didn’t come here for compliments," I respond.

“No,” he says. “You came here for answers.”

“Exactly.”

He gestures lightly toward the chair beside me.

“Then sit.” This time, I do. Lucas walks behind his desk and opens a drawer. He pulls out a thin file. Then slides it across the table toward me. “Take a look.”

I open it carefully, and inside it are several property ownership documents, street addresses, and transfer confirmations. My eyes move across the pages quickly, and then I recognize the locations. Every single one of them sits directly around the Riverside property. My stomach tightens as I look up slowly.

Lucas is watching me with calm interest. “You see it now,” he says.

“You bought everything around it.” I ask.

“Most of it.”

“Why?”

His expression doesn’t change. “Because land isn’t valuable by itself,” he says calmly. “It’s valuable because of what surrounds it.”

My mind begins connecting the pieces. If he controls the surrounding properties, Can I win this battle?

I close the file slowly. “You’re building a cage around my project.”

Lucas leans back slightly in his chair. “Not a cage.”

“Then what?”

“A negotiation.”

I stand up. “This is exactly what I meant when I said you should come for it properly.”

His gaze sharpens slightly. “And you believe this isn’t proper?”

“You’re trying to choke the project. "I emphasize.

“No,” he replies calmly. “I’m reminding you that real estate is a game of territory.”

My jaw tightens.

“You should walk away from this,” he adds quietly.

“And let you take it?” I ask now, looking very furious.

His expression softens slightly. “I think you should let this one go.”

I almost laugh. “You lost the deal, Mr. Clarke.” “Yes,” he says simply. “And I don’t like losing.” His honesty almost surprises me.

I turn and walk toward the door. My hand is already on the handle when his voice stops me.

“Lucy.” I freeze. It’s the first time he’s said my name without the formality. I look back. He’s watching me with that same calm, calculating gaze.

“Now I understand how you won that contract,” he says.

“Preparation,” I reply coldly.

A faint smile touches his lips. “No.” His voice drops lower. “Courage.”

For a brief moment, neither of us moves. Then I open the door and walk out. Ten minutes later I reach the parking garage and unlock my car.

My phone vibrates just as I sit down. An email notification flashes across the screen from an unknown sender. I open it, and there's only one line.

Now I understand why you won. I might let you keep this one… If you ask nicely.

— LC

I stare at the message for a moment. Then I close my phone slowly.

“Arrogant,” I mutter under my breath. But as I start the engine, one uncomfortable thought lingers in my mind. Lucas Clarke isn’t trying to destroy the project. He’s trying to corner me inside it.

And somehow… I’m starting to suspect that the Riverside contract was never the real prize.

I was.