Lex enter to the reception area to Elias's office. Kat his secretary was typing away without so much as glancing up, her glasses sliding down her nose.
"Morning, Mr. Latham." Her voice was polite, but flat. She hadn't even looked at him.
Lex smiled faintly as he heading down the corridor that led to the corner offices.
The heavy oak door to Elias Mars office stood ajar, as it always did. Lex paused just outside, hearing the steady scratching of pen on paper.
"Don't linger in doorways, Lex. It makes you look weak."
Lex smirked and stepped in.
Elias sat at his desk, reading over documents under the glow of a brass lamp. His silver glasses perched at the end of his nose as he signed something with meticulous precision.
"You're a bit early."
Lex set the contracts on Elias's desk with a quiet thud.
Elias glanced at it, then at Lex. He adjusted his glasses and pulled the document toward him, flipping it open with the same practiced ease he handled all legal matters. Pulling the contracts he prepared first.
"Well, well," he murmured, adjusting his glasses. "Now this… this is interesting."
Lex smirked. He knew exactly what Elias was looking at.
The signatures.
Margot Maddox. Charlotte Maddox. Barnie's sisters.
Their inked names were scrawled neatly at the bottom of a legal transfer—signing over their trust fund rights to him.
Elias glanced up. "It's done?"
Lex shrugged. "I visit and ask them nicely—take the money or join my lawsuit."
Elias let out a low chuckle. "And here I though they try to negotiate better conditions. The art collection last evaluation was insured at almost half a billion."
Lex smirked. "They were interested in that little detail. We were busy focusing on the missing Picassos and Warhol's. It would have been stupid to not take the easy way out grandma had open up for them."
Elias tapped the paper thoughtfully. "Right now, you're in a strong position, but technically, the way this is structured, they still have some say if Barnie tries to flip them—you could be looking at a legal nightmare."
Lex's fingers tapped against the armrest. "You can fix that?"
Elias smirked. "I'll see if we can streamline things so that you have full control. That way, if they ever get second thoughts, it won't matter."
Lex exhaled slowly. "Do it."
Elias nodded, making a note in the margin. "Oh, don't worry. I was already going to."
Then it was the other contract, like magick Kat walk in with two cups of coffee. The cold white latte was for Lex and the other black was place next to Elias.
"Dominic Dante," Elias murmured, scanning the first few pages. His brow lifted slightly. "Clean work. Straightforward terms. He looks like an honest lawyer."
Lex smirked. "You sound surprised."
Elias didn't look up as he turned another page. "Honest lawyers don't survive long at this level. They either adapt or disappear—or worse, they stay honest and lose every case." He hummed, his finger tapping the margins as he absorbed the finer details. "Dante, though… he's sharp. Efficient. He doesn't pad his hours, and he doesn't hedge his bets."
Lex leaned back in the chair, watching the old lawyer work. He had expected Elias to poke holes in Dante's contract, to warn him against getting into bed with a lawyer who probably had a hundred clients with dirtier hands than Barnie. But Elias looked… impressed.
"Surprised you're not tearing it apart," Lex mused.
Elias finally looked up. "I don't need to. If I were twenty years younger, I'd hire the man myself."
Lex exhaled a quiet laugh. "High praise from you."
Elias closed the contract and tapped his knuckles against it. "That said, we need to talk about the real problem here."
Lex's smirk faded. "Barnie."
Elias nodded. "And more importantly—Roman D'Angelo."
The name carried weight, heavier than Lex had expected.
Elias sat back in his chair, steepling his fingers. "I know Barnie. I know how he thinks, how he maneuvers. He's predictable in his arrogance, in his need to always be the one holding the leash. But Roman? Roman's different."
Lex listened carefully.
"Roman isn't a gambler like Barnie," Elias continued. "He's cautious, meticulous. His entire career has been spent keeping powerful men out of trouble. He doesn't take risks—he neutralizes them before they become threats."
Lex tilted his head slightly. "And you think this case makes me a threat?"
Elias sighed, rubbing his temple. "Lex, a court case is messy. Barnie thrives in chaos, but Roman? He'll treat this like an infection to be cut out before it spreads. He'll settle before it ever sees a judge, bury it so deep even Dante won't find an angle."
Lex frowned slightly. "So, you think this is a bad move?"
Elias drummed his fingers against the desk. "Not necessarily. I just think it's better to do this lawyer to lawyer. No courtrooms. No press. No unnecessary fireworks."
Lex considered that for a moment but as he thought of his life in the first timeline. His five-year legal battle he'd fought—one that Dante had helped him navigate with meticulous precision. They won the legal battle but it was too little too late. Dante had his fees but Lex lost the war. It was a bitter game he had plan only to be dragged down by misplace trust.
Elias studied him for a moment, then leaned forward. "Tell me something, Lex. Is this about the art? Or is this about drawing Barnie into a fight he can't win?"
Lex's lips parted slightly—then closed.
His hands clenched at his sides, a mix of frustration and determination flickering in his eyes.
Elias sighed, shaking his head. "Thought so."
He opened the contract again, flipping to the retainer details. "I'll finalize this with Dante. We do this clean, through back channels, through leverage—not a legal war. Roman D'Angelo is the real opponent here, not Barnie. You start with the man who holds the keys."