Lex didn't have three months.
Ninety days was too long to sit and wait while opportunities slipped through his fingers.
Silent Crossings had proven what he could do—it was a hit, a win, a foothold. But it wasn't enough. Not yet.
The trust had been making money for a decade—millions in liquid assets sitting there, untouched. Money that had never been reinvested, never been risked.
Lex knew exactly where it needed to go.
And only one person could get him the access he needed.
Lex sat across from Elias Marr, the family lawyer who had been handling Maddox business since before he was born.
The office hadn't changed in years—dark wood, leather chairs, the faint scent of cigars that no one smoked anymore.
Elias sat behind his desk, fingers laced together, peering at Lex over his square glasses. His hair was neatly combed, his suit pressed with surgical precision— the look of a man who had seen enough family drama to outlast it all.
"You don't exactly make small asks, Lex," Elias said, voice steady. "Twenty million isn't an insignificant investment—even by Maddox standards."
Lex leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
His tone was calm, controlled. But his eyes?
They burned with determination.
"I know the amount, Elias. And I know there's no real risk."
Elias tilted his head slightly. "Silent Crossings, I assume."
Lex nodded. "The film's a hit. Critics love it, screenings are packed, and streaming platforms are already circling for exclusive rights. I'm putting my share of the film up as collateral."
Elias sighed softly, flipping through the stack of documents Lex had placed on his desk.
"You're not here to sell snake oil, then?"
Lex let out a small chuckle. "Wouldn't waste your time if I was."
Elias didn't reply immediately. Instead, he took his time, flipping through the financials, analyzing the numbers with practiced ease.
Finally, he set the papers down, lacing his fingers together. "The projections look promising. But you're asking for this loan before the money clears. Why not wait until the funds are in your account?"
Lex shifted slightly. "Because I don't have three months to wait." His voice was even, but there was an urgency beneath it.
"There's an opportunity—multiple, actually. Music catalogs, forgotten gems that could shape the next decade of the industry. Film rights. Startups. Games. The market moves fast, Elias. If I don't move now, someone else will."
Elias studied him carefully.
"You realize what you're risking, don't you?" he said after a beat. "If this doesn't pan out, the trust could end up owning your entire share of the film. You'd be putting a lot on the line, Lex."
Lex met his gaze without flinching. "I didn't claw my way back to play it safe. Silent Crossings is my foothold, but this? This is my chance to build something bigger."
Elias leaned back in his chair, and for the first time, a faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"You sound more like your father every day."
Lex blinked at the unexpected comment.
"Yeah?" He tilted his head slightly. "He played things differently, didn't he?"
Elias sighed, his expression thoughtful. "He did. Roger Latham always thought five moves ahead. But he played carefully—measured every risk like it was his last. You…" Elias paused, eyes narrowing slightly. "You're bolder. Quicker to act. That's not necessarily a bad thing—but it's a dangerous game."
Lex's smile was faint, but unwavering. "I don't play recklessly, Elias. I play to win."
Elias held his gaze for a long moment. Then, finally, he exhaled, picking up his pen.
"He'd be proud of you, you know."
Lex's smirk faltered slightly—just for a second.
"You think so?"
Elias nodded. His voice was quieter now. "I do. But he'd probably give you an hour-long lecture first—about patience, calculated risks, and the importance of not overextending yourself."
Lex chuckled, shaking his head. "I can hear him already."
Elias spun the pen between his fingers before setting it down. "Alright. Let's do this. But on one condition."
Lex raised an eyebrow. "Condition?"
Elias's expression hardened. "You listen to me."
Lex didn't break eye contact.
"I've seen enough in my years working for your family to know how quickly things can fall apart." Elias's voice was steady, measured. "Barnie's no fool, Lex. He's watching you. Don't give him an opening."
Lex's expression darkened slightly at the mention of Barnie.
"Let him watch. I'm not playing his game."
Elias sighed, leaning back. "That's exactly what your father used to say."
Lex's jaw tightened, but he didn't look away.
Elias tapped the stack of documents in front of him. "And we both know how that ended."
Lex said nothing.
Just waited.
Elias watched him for another long moment. Then, finally—he signed.
Each stroke of the pen deliberate, precise.
He slid the documents across the desk, his voice softer now.
"The funds will be in your account by the end of the week. Don't make me regret this, Lex."
Lex took the papers, tucking them into his coat. "You won't."
As he rose to leave, Elias spoke one last time.
"Lex, before you go—just remember something."
Lex paused, one hand on the doorframe.
Elias's voice was quiet, but firm. "Your father believed in you. And so do I. But don't let that belief blind you. Barnie's always been good at waiting for the right moment to strike."
Lex's smile was faint. Knowing.
"He won't get that chance."
Elias nodded slowly, watching as Lex stepped out into the cool afternoon air.
Outside, Lex exhaled, the weight of the loan settling on his shoulders.
Silent Crossings had opened doors, but this move?
This was the foundation of something untouchable.
Barnie was watching.
But it didn't matter.
Because in three months, when the money rolled in—
Lex wouldn't just be ahead.
He'd own the whole damn game.