The bar was one of those spots that felt half-abandoned—a place you didn't find unless you were looking for the wrong company. The lights were low, the booths worn down, and the air smelled faintly of whiskey and regret.
Lex spotted Benny Caldwell in the back corner, hunched over a mess of papers and an empty glass. Same old Benny.
Lex crossed the room, slipping into the seat across from him without waiting for an invitation.
Benny glanced up, squinting as if he didn't quite believe his eyes.
"Well, if it isn't little Latham," Benny said, leaning back in his chair. His voice was rough, like he'd been yelling or smoking too much—or both. "What brings the prince of Wall Street to my humble corner of failure?"
Lex smirked faintly, gesturing to the half-finished stack of papers Benny had been scribbling on.
"You're still writing?" Lex asked.
Benny snorted. "Writing's free. Production isn't." He swirled the ice in his glass lazily. "I'm just keeping the dream alive until the landlord kicks me out."
Lex's eyes drifted to the disheveled pile. "Script?"
Benny shrugged. "Mikey's," he said, nodding to the nervous-looking kid sitting beside him. "Poor bastard thinks someone's actually gonna buy it."
Mikey, who couldn't have been older than twenty, shot Benny a glare before turning his attention to Lex.
"It's good," Mikey muttered.
Benny laughed, patting him on the shoulder like an indulgent older brother. "Sure it is. Just needs about fifty grand, a miracle, and someone stupid enough to back it."
Lex leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table.
"I'm feeling stupid today."
Benny's grin faded. His eyes narrowed as he studied Lex carefully.
"You serious?" Benny asked, his voice dipping low.
Lex nodded, reaching for the top page of the script and skimming the first few lines.
"What's it about?" Lex asked without looking up.
Mikey hesitated, fidgeting slightly under the pressure. "It's a thriller," he said quietly. "Corporate corruption, money laundering through fake real estate deals. The lead starts uncovering secrets his boss buried years ago—ones that tie back to his family."
Lex's hand stilled on the page.
Benny grinned, misinterpreting Lex's reaction. "Yeah, I told him it's every white-collar scandal rolled into one. Real original, right?"
Lex didn't respond. His thumb traced the edge of the script slowly.
The premise was too close to home.
Benny leaned back, crossing his arms. "So, what? You're gonna throw a little cash our way out of pity?"
Lex set the script down carefully and met Benny's gaze.
"Rewrite the boss," Lex said evenly.
Benny frowned. "What?"
"The boss." Lex gestured at the script. "Make him more complex. Give him a son—someone who starts off idolizing him but realizes too late that he's in over his head."
Mikey blinked. "That's not really—"
"It'll work," Lex interrupted, his voice calm but firm. "People like tragedy. They like the idea that even powerful families can destroy themselves from the inside."
Benny stared at Lex for a long second, then grinned knowingly.
"Ohhh, I get it. You're making this personal," Benny said, tapping the side of his temple. "Daddy issues, right? You want to immortalize the old man on the big screen."
Lex smiled faintly. "Something like that."
Mikey still looked unsure, but Benny shrugged. "Hell, you're the one with the checkbook."
"How much to shoot a teaser?" Lex asked.
Benny's grin widened. "Thirty grand."
Lex didn't blink. "I'll wire you half by Friday."
Mikey choked on his drink. "What? Just like that?"
Lex slid a business card across the table, standing up and tugging his coat back into place.
"I want the first draft in two weeks," Lex said, slipping his hands into his pockets. "You know where to find me."
Benny picked up the card, flipping it between his fingers. "I gotta admit, Lex, you've got an interesting way of dealing with grief."
Lex glanced over his shoulder as he stepped toward the door.
"This isn't about grief," Lex replied, his voice cool. "It's about control."
The door swung shut behind him, leaving Benny and Mikey in stunned silence.
Outside, Lex exhaled slowly.
The script wasn't just a project.
It was a warning. A small one, but the first step in turning the story of his family's fall into something Barnie couldn't ignore.
Let him see the shadows coming.
Lex wasn't in a rush to win. He had time—and this time, he wouldn't miss the details.