Karen, Elias's assistant, glanced up from her desk as Lex enter the reception area.
"You again," she said, smirking lightly. "Didn't you just see him?"
Lex smiled faintly. "Yes. Plans change."
Karen snorted, pressing the intercom. "Lex is here."
Lex stepped through the heavy oak doors.
Elias looked up, setting down a thick folder. "Twice in one month. I'm either doing something right or terribly wrong."
Lex smirked, settling into the chair across from him. "That depends."
Elias leaned back in his chair, fingers steepling. "Alright, Lex. What's on your mind?"
Lex's gaze drifted toward the framed photo of Elias and his father on the bookshelf—a rare candid shot of them laughing during a charity event. It tugged something faint in Lex's chest.
"I want to start something," Lex said quietly, tapping the armrest lightly with his fingers. "A new firm. Under my name."
Elias arched a brow, but his expression remained neutral. "You're seventeen, Lex. Starting a firm isn't as simple as buying a toy."
"It won't be a hedge fund. Not yet," Lex clarified. "I want something small. Investments in startups, tech companies. I'll pull from my trust—small moves, nothing flashy."
Elias's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "And you want to do this openly?"
"Yes. My name on the paperwork. Lex Latham. No shell companies. No backdoors."
Elias leaned forward slightly, resting his arms on the desk. "I assume this isn't just about returns."
Lex met his gaze directly. "No. It's about visibility. If I'm out in the open, Barnie won't suspect I'm moving under him. He'll think I'm playing safe."
Elias was quiet for a long moment, his eyes narrowing as he studied Lex carefully. "And if Barnie decides to take an interest?"
Lex smiled faintly. "He won't. I'm not touching real estate or finance—not yet. I'm investing in streaming services, entertainment, maybe a few small apps. Nothing that concerns him."
Elias's lips twitched slightly. "Small toys, then."
Lex nodded. "Exactly."
Elias exhaled slowly, adjusting his glasses. "You know your grandfather never did things like this. He believed in legacy. He didn't build piece by piece—he built entire empires."
Lex's gaze softened. "I know. But my father did."
For a brief second, Elias's expression shifted—just enough for Lex to catch the flicker of something deeper.
Roger Latham had invested in small projects. His interests weren't purely financial—they were personal. And Lex remembered the late nights when his father spoke about artists, inventors, and dreamers who just needed one chance.
"I'm not trying to be William," Lex added quietly. "I'm doing this for him. For Dad."
Elias leaned back, the faint creak of his chair filling the silence. He nodded slowly.
"I'll draw up the paperwork," Elias said. "But I'm keeping the trust releases tight. You won't burn more than what I allow."
Lex smirked. "Fair enough."
Elias opened a drawer, pulling out a legal pad. "What do you want to call it?"
Lex hesitated for a moment. "Latham Ventures."
Elias's pen hovered mid-air before he wrote it down. "Simple. I like it."
Lex shifted slightly in his seat, fingers brushing the edge of the desk.
"There's one more thing," he said, voice quieter now.
Elias looked up. "Go on."
"I want to sell the penthouse."
Elias froze, the pen halting just above the paper. "The penthouse? Your father's?"
Lex nodded, though something heavy settled in his chest. "Mom and I are staying in the brownstone. It's too much space, and… it feels like it belongs in the past."
Elias set his pen down carefully, folding his hands. "Lex, that penthouse is worth more than its market value. It's part of your father's legacy."
Lex's gaze dropped to the desk.
"I know," Lex said quietly. "But holding onto it feels like a ghost house."
Elias studied him carefully, his sharp gaze softening.
"You don't have to rush this, Lex."
Lex exhaled, leaning back in the chair. "No rushing. But I needed to start somewhere, and letting go of that place feels right."
Elias nodded slowly. "I'll handle the sale. Quietly."
"Thank you."
Lex stood, as he glanced around the office. The framed photos, the dark wood, and the faint traces of his father's legacy that lingered here made it harder to leave.
"Lex," Elias said softly before he could exit.
Lex turned, meeting his gaze.
"Your father would be proud," Elias said. "Not because of the firm… but because you're thinking ahead. He always said you had the sharpest instincts in the family."
Lex smiled faintly. "I'll make sure that counts for something."
As Lex left the office, the faint weight of his father's memory followed him.
But this time, it didn't feel like a burden.
It felt like momentum.