Lex stepped onto the 22nd floor of Maddux Holdings. The office decorated by Barnie for Barnie—sleek glass panels, red carpet with the super large logo and a view that was very expensive.
The reception desk was manned by the same woman he vaguely remembered. Karen. She was typing away without so much as glancing up, her glasses sliding down her nose.
"Morning, Mr. Latham." Her voice was polite, but flat. She hadn't even looked at him.
Lex smiled faintly. I was just another rich kid intern to her.
He stepped past, heading down the corridor that led to the corner offices.
The heavy oak door to Elias Grant's office stood ajar, as it always did. Lex paused just outside, hearing the steady scratching of pen on paper.
"Don't linger in doorways, Lex. It makes you look weak."
Lex smirked and stepped in.
Elias sat at his desk, reading over documents under the glow of a brass lamp. His silver glasses perched at the end of his nose as he signed something with meticulous precision.
"You're a bit early."
Lex sat and shrugged. "Barnie said nine. I like to be unpredictable."
Elias set his pen down carefully, folding his hands over the document in front of him. There was something reassuring about the way he did things—measured, deliberate, never rushed.
Lex had once found it boring. Now, he saw the strength in it.
"I see," Elias said slowly, watching Lex like he was searching for something beneath the surface. "You don't usually arrive early for anything, Lex."
"Maybe I'm turning over a new leaf."
Elias didn't smile. "That doesn't sound like you."
Lex leaned back in the chair, arms draping over the armrests as he crossed one leg over the other. The silence stretched just long enough to feel noticeable.
"You don't trust me," Lex said finally.
Elias's gaze didn't waver. "No, I don't."
Lex's faint smirk faded. "I don't blame you."
Elias exhaled through his nose, leaning back in his chair with a quiet creak.
"You're not supposed to inherit the bulk of your trust funds until you're 25," Elias said, gesturing vaguely to a locked filing cabinet by the window. "Unless you've come to tell me you've joined the board overnight, I assume you want something."
Lex's eyes flicked to the cabinet, knowing full well what was inside. Decades of wealth, land deeds, stocks—just waiting for the right hand to unlock them.
"I'm not here for anything yet," Lex said smoothly. "Just visiting."
Elias's eyes narrowed slightly.
Lex didn't answer.
The lawyer let out a slow breath, tapping his finger against the armrest. His eyes lingered on Lex's face as if trying to read between the lines.
"Barnie will expect you to fall in line this time, Lex. He won't be as patient as before."
Lex's smile didn't reach his eyes.
"I know."
Elias studied him for a long moment. Finally, he shifted, pulling open a drawer and retrieving a thick envelope. He slid it across the desk toward Lex.
"Your father left this for you. I was instructed to hand it over once you turned eighteen."
Lex's fingers curled around the edge of the envelope, but he didn't open it.
"Why now?"
Elias adjusted his glasses. "Because something tells me you'll need it sooner."
Lex's thumb traced the seal, the weight of the envelope pressing into his palm.
His father's handwriting —sharp, precise, just like him.
"Thanks," Lex said, pocketing the envelope.
Elias nodded slowly, return to his paperwork but not before adding a line.
"You'll make enemies in this office, Lex. Be careful about trusting the wrong people."
Lex rose, straightening his jacket. "I'll keep that in mind."
As he stepped toward the door, Elias's voice stopped him one last time.
"And Lex," Elias added quietly, eyes still fixed on the papers before him, "don't underestimate Barnie."
Lex's grip tightened on the door handle.
"I won't."
The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Elias alone with his papers and quiet doubts.