Lex stepped into the reception area of Elias Mars' law office. The woman at the desk, Kat, barely glanced up from her typing.
"Morning, Mr. Latham," she said, voice flat, glasses slipping down her nose.
Lex smirked faintly. Just another rich kid to her.
He walked past, down the corridor lined with polished wood and understated wealth. The heavy oak door to Elias' office stood ajar, as always.
Inside, the steady scratching of pen on paper filled the air.
"Don't linger in doorways, Lex. It makes you look weak."
Lex smirked and stepped in.
Elias sat at his desk, reading 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 early," Elias noted.
Lex shrugged, dropping into the chair across from him. "I like to be unpredictable."
Elias set his pen down, folding his hands over the document in front of him. "You don't arrive early for anything, Lex."
"Maybe I'm turning over a new leaf."
Elias didn't smile. "That doesn't sound like you."
The silence stretched. Lex leaned back in the chair, arms draping over the armrests.
"You don't trust me," he said finally.
Elias met his gaze. "No, I don't."
Lex smirked, but it faded quickly. "You've known me since I was seven. Looked out me for these past five years. Doesn't that count for something?"
Elias exhaled through his nose. "It counts. But you have reckless tendencies, Lex. Bad patterns. And that won't work—not against the Maddox legacy."
Lex's expression hardened. "I'm not playing anymore, Elias."
The lawyer studied him for a moment before leaning back in his chair. "You're not supposed to inherit the bulk of your trust funds until twenty-five. Unless you joined the board overnight, I assume you want something."
Lex's eyes flicked to the locked filing cabinet by the window. Decades of wealth, land deeds, stocks—waiting for the right hand to unlock them.
"Just visiting."
Elias narrowed his eyes. He didn't believe that for a second.
With a quiet sigh, he pulled open a drawer and retrieved a thick envelope. Sliding it across the desk, he said, "Your father left this for you. I was instructed to give it to you when you turned twenty."
Lex picked it up, fingers tracing the seal. His father's handwriting—sharp, precise, just like him.
This was something he never received in his last life.
"Why now?"
Elias adjusted his glasses. "Because something tells me you'll need it sooner."
Lex pocketed the envelope without opening it.
Elias returned to his paperwork but added, "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."
He turned toward the door.
"And Lex," Elias called, voice lower this time. "Don't underestimate Barnie."
Lex's grip tightened on the door handle. Instead of leaving, he turned back.
"You keep saying that. What exactly shouldn't I underestimate?"
Elias steepled his fingers. "Barnie isn't just a CEO. He's a strategist. He doesn't play the game—he rewrites it to suit him."
Lex's jaw tensed. "I'm aware."
"Are you?" Elias arched a brow. "You've watched him from the outside. Do you know how many people he's stepped over? How many careers he's buried just to keep his hands clean?"
Lex stayed silent. That was answer enough.
"Let me guess," Elias continued, voice edged with dry amusement. "You think you'll march in, pull a few clever tricks, and take the company back? That you're the rightful heir, here to fix your father's legacy?"
Lex smirked. "Something like that."
Elias sighed. "Lex, the Maddox empire isn't built on bloodlines. Barnie doesn't believe in family—he believes in leverage. Your name only matters as long as it serves his interests. And right now? It doesn't."
Lex tilted his head. "And yet, you've looked after me for five years. Why not cut ties and go all in with Barnie?"
Elias allowed a small smile. "Because I knew your father. He built something real—something Barnie has spent the last decade twisting into his own."
Lex's smirk faded. "And you want me to stop him?"
Elias's gaze was unreadable. "Not yet. But you have potential."
The room fell into silence.
Then Elias leaned forward slightly. "Tell me, Lex. Do you know what the land deal in Greenpoint is really about?"
Lex's brow furrowed. "The logistics hub Barnie's been pushing?"
Elias chuckled softly. "It's not a logistics hub. It's a shell—a front to cover something bigger. That land sits on top of zoning rights for a waterfront casino. Barnie's been tying up local officials for five years to keep it buried."
Lex's expression darkened. "And you know this how?"
Elias smirked. "It's my job to know. The question is: why don't you?"
Lex didn't flinch, but the jab landed. "Because you don't exactly share this stuff freely."
Elias gave him a faint smile. "Consider it a lesson. If you're going to beat Barnie, you need to know more than he does. Otherwise, you're just another piece on his board—and not a particularly valuable one."
Lex inhaled deeply, nodding once. "Alright, then. Teach me."
Elias arched a brow. "It's not that simple. You want to play in Barnie's world? Then prove you can handle the rules. Start with Greenpoint. If you can figure out how he's hiding those zoning rights, you'll have your first real weapon against him."
Lex's smirk returned. "Challenge accepted."
Elias's expression remained impassive, but approval flickered in his eyes. "Just don't mistake confidence for invincibility. Barnie's been at this far longer than you."
Lex stepped toward the door again, then glanced back. "And yet, you've been looking out for me since I was twelve. Guess you see something worth betting on."
Elias didn't answer immediately. Then, finally, he nodded. "Your father did. Let's see if he was right."
Lex left, the envelope in his pocket feeling heavier than before.
Barnie's game was layered, intricate.
But it was still a game.
And Lex was done playing by the rules.