The intercom on Elias's desk crackled to life.
"Mr. Marr, a Dominic Dante is here to see you."
Elias glanced at Lex, then pressed the button. "Send him in."
Lex smirked, settling deeper into the chair across from Elias's desk as the door opened. Dante stepped inside with the easy confidence of a man who had been in more courtrooms and negotiation rooms than he cared to count. His charcoal-gray suit was crisp, but unlike Elias's more traditional tailoring, Dante's style was modern—sleek, practical. His tie was loosened just enough to suggest he was never one for unnecessary formality.
Elias, ever the observer, simply adjusted his glasses, studying the man before him.
Dante smirked, offering a nod. "Had to meet you in person, Senior. No offense to Latham here, but you're the legal backbone. If I'm playing on your field, I'd rather know the rules upfront."
Lex let out a quiet chuckle. Smart.
Elias leaned back, his fingers steepled. "Interesting approach. Most lawyers in your position would try to assert dominance first, not… ask permission."
Dante grinned, unfazed. "Dominance is an illusion in a room full of professionals. I prefer results."
Elias's lips twitched, the barest hint of amusement passing through his usually unreadable expression.
He tapped the contract Lex had signed earlier. "I assume you're here for the final agreement?"
Dante nodded. "Everything's clean."
Elias reached for his checkbook, flipping it open with practiced ease. He took out his pen and signed off on the retainer without another word. Then, he slid it across the desk toward Lex.
Lex, still smirking, took the pen and added his own signature. The ink dried almost instantly, the contract officially sealed.
Dante picked up the document and check in one fluid motion, giving a small nod. "Pleasure doing business."
Elias adjusted his glasses. "Now, since we're all on the same page, let's talk strategy."
Lex pulled out his phone and unlocked a secure file. "I had my PI track the stolen Warhol and the two missing Picassos." His eyes flicked to Dante. "You're gonna love this."
Dante leaned in slightly, intrigued. "Enlighten me."
Lex's voice was calm, but there was a dangerous edge to it. "The Warhol was sold to a Chinese billionaire family based out of Canada. One of the Picassos is hanging in a Russian mob-owned gallery. The other? That one ended up in a museum."
Elias let out a slow exhale. "Barnie really is getting sloppy."
Dante's fingers drummed against the contract he just secured. "Museum means legitimate channels. That'll be a mess of red tape, but not impossible. The Russian mob, though? That's a different beast. And the Chinese buyer… depends on how much they care about keeping it."
Lex's jaw tightened. "It's not about the paintings. It's about leverage. We need to press charges."
Dante's eyes gleamed. "You want this public?"
Lex shook his head. "I want it quiet."
Elias leaned forward, his gaze sharpening. "If you press charges, Barnie has two ways to respond. Roman D'Angelo is not going to let this go to court. He plays safe. Always."
Dante smirked. "Which means?"
Elias tapped the desk. "One of two things. Either they'll try to settle before this ever reaches a judge—quietly, through back channels—or they'll counter with something that puts us on the defensive."
Lex's eyes narrowed. "Roman doesn't take risks. He neutralizes them. If we're moving, we need to anticipate how he'll block us."
Dante folded his arms, thinking. "Barnie's is a liability. Roman knows that. He won't let Barnie make a reckless move, which means he'll try to suffocate this before it breathes. He'll come to you with an offer."
Elias nodded. "Exactly. The question is whether you're willing to take it."
Lex's fingers tightened around his phone. "I don't want his money. I want him."
Dante exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. "Revenge cases are tricky, kid."
Lex smirked. "This isn't revenge, Dante. This is business."
Elias watched them both, then reached for his coffee. "Then let's move forward. But carefully. If Roman thinks we're just another problem to sweep under the rug, we use that to our advantage. We dictate the terms—not them."
Dante tapped the signed contract. "Then let's get started."