From Elias it was a few shorts steps to the Maddox building and then a long ride to the 39 floor. It took give less than five minutes. So Lex arrived at the conference room ten minutes early. Barnie wouldn't expect it—he never did.
The space was as suffocatingly polished as ever. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the Manhattan skyline, casting sharp reflections against the glossy mahogany table that stretched across the room like a stage. At the head sat a single leather-bound planner—Barnie's signature prop, always placed just so.
Lex didn't sit.
Instead, he lingered by the windows, hands in his pockets, gazing at the street below. The city looked smaller from this height, a reminder that power changed perspectives.
The soft hiss of the door broke the quiet.
"You're early."
Bernard Maddox the 3 rd, know as Barnie entered with the ease of a man who had been winning for decades. His charcoal suit fit like armor, the faint click of his polished shoes echoing through the room. Pale blue eyes, sharp and calculating, met Lex's in the reflection of the glass.
"Well, this is a surprise," Barnie said, setting a thin stack of files on the table. His tone was smooth, almost conversational, but the undercurrent was unmistakable. "I assumed you'd stroll in late, distracted by… whatever it is you've decided to waste your time on these days."
Lex turned, a faint smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "Guess I'm full of surprises."
Barnie regarded him for a beat longer, the flicker of intrigue hidden behind his usual composure. "It would seem so."
Lex moved deliberately, choosing the chair directly opposite Barnie and lowering himself into it with an air of calm. His uncle had always tried to dominate the room with presence, but Lex wasn't giving him that today.
"You met with Elias this morning," Barnie said casually, sliding the top folder open.
Lex leaned back in his chair, feigning ease. "Briefly. He's thorough, as usual."
Barnie's lips curled into a faint smirk. "Thorough is one word. Obsolete is another."
The jab wasn't new.
Barnie had always considered Elias more obstacle than asset—too loyal to the Latham legacy, and far too principled for Barnie's taste. So he hand arrangements with his own set of lawyers that were more open to suggestions.
"Obsolete doesn't usually win," Lex replied, keeping his tone light.
Barnie's smirk deepened, his fingers tapping softly on the table. "True. But you'll find, Lex, that loyalty often gets in the way of efficiency. Elias can't look after you forever."
Lex didn't flinch. "I didn't come here to talk about Elias."
Barnie arched a brow, leaning back in his chair. "No? Then why are we here?"
Lex's smirk sharpened. "I need to ask about Manhattan University."
Barnie's expression didn't shift, but there was a flicker of recognition in his eyes.
"Ah, yes," Barnie said, gesturing vaguely toward the files. "I arranged for your enrollment. Early admission, business and finance with an 1000 Hour internship. It'll look excellent on paper when the time comes."
"When I turn 18," Lex said evenly, "and the trustees approve of me I will get partial access to the trust."
Barnie didn't deny it. "You'll need the right credentials to make the transition seamless. I'm setting you up for success."
The words were smooth, deliberate. To anyone else, they might have sounded genuine.
But Lex heard the subtext. You're a pawn.
"You didn't pull me out of high school for fun," Lex said, his voice calm but pointed. "This is about image."
Barnie smiled faintly, tilting his head. "It's about making sure you're prepared. You may think you're clever, Lex, but clever only gets you so far. People respect polish, not rebellion."
Lex didn't rise to the bait. Instead, he studied his uncle for a long moment.
"I'll be starting in a month," Lex said finally, standing from the chair. "But before that, I intend to make my mark."
Barnie's gaze sharpened slightly, but he kept his voice light. "And what exactly does that mean?"
Lex gave him a faint, unreadable smile. "Guess you'll find out."
He turned to leave, but paused at the door. "Oh, and Barnie—tell Trent to find a better spot to park next time. He's not subtle. I also won't be letting into my space. EVER."
Barnie's pen stilled mid-signature. Slowly, he looked up, amusement flickering briefly across his face.
"Duly noted."
Lex let the door swing shut behind him, walking down the corridor with steady steps. The weight of Barnie's gaze lingered, but it didn't unnerve him.
Barnie thought he was setting the pieces in place.
But Lex wasn't just a piece on the board. He was playing the game as an opponent.