The recording studio sat behind an unmarked steel door in the East Village—the kind of place only people who mattered could find. Lex stepped out of the car, pulling his coat tighter against the cool breeze as Benny leaned casually against the entrance, cigarette dangling from his lips.
"You're late," Benny smirked, tapping ash onto the pavement.
Lex adjusted his cufflinks, glancing at the empty street behind him. "I figured musicians aren't the punctual type."
Benny chuckled, pushing the door open. The heavy bass thumping inside was immediate—a slow, deep rhythm vibrating through the floorboards.
"Welcome to Wildfire Records," Benny said as Lex followed him inside. "Jason doesn't just hoard film rights. He's been sitting on this place for two years, bleeding money. Can't manage artists to save his life."
Lex's gaze swept over the dimly lit studio. The walls were lined with soundproof panels, and through the glass window of the recording booth, he spotted a producer nodding along to the beat, gesturing at a young artist behind the mic.
The kid—early twenties, maybe—had the kind of voice that could sell stadiums if someone handled him right.
"Who's that?" Lex asked, tilting his head toward the booth.
Benny flicked his cigarette into a nearby ashtray. "Aiden Ross. Underground R&B guy. Talented as hell, but Jason's too distracted chasing Hollywood to push him. Aiden's stuck recording half-finished tracks."
Lex's eyes lingered on Aiden for a moment longer.
"You're telling me Jason's got talent like this and he's just sitting on it?"
"Not just him," Benny replied, pulling out his phone. "Two other unsigned artists, shaggy from cubba and sammy. Both with followings, but no one managing their careers. Jason's too busy playing gatekeeper."
Lex exhaled slowly. "And the studio?"
Benny grinned. "1.2 million. Fully equipped, contracts on the building for another five years."
Lex's brow lifted slightly. Cheap.
Benny arched a brow. "You sure you wanna play in the music business, Lex? This isn't hedge funds and boardrooms."
Lex smirked. "I'm not buying a studio, Benny. I'm buying influence."
Benny let out a short laugh. "Fair enough."
Lex stepped closer to the glass, watching as Aiden pulled off his headphones, shaking hands with the producer. The kid had raw talent, but raw didn't sell itself.
"Set the meeting," Lex said, his tone sharp. "I want Jason here by tomorrow. We're not just buying the studio. I'm signing Aiden—and the other two."
Benny paused. "All three?"
Lex's eyes didn't leave the booth.
"I'm not betting on one artist," Lex said. "I'm buying the whole sound."
Benny grinned wide, pulling out his phone. "Alright, Latham. I'll make the call. But when this blows up, I'm taking credit."
Lex smirked faintly. "You can have credit. I'll take the profits."