The End Before Beginning

The marble floors of the Maddox Holdings ballroom gleamed under the glow of chandeliers, casting long shadows over the crowd gathered below. The room was buzzing—low murmurs, polished smiles, and champagne glasses that never seemed to empty.

Lex hated places like this. Too much wealth. Too many secrets hidden behind polite conversation and plastic smiles.

Rose stood by his side, blending in seamlessly with the tailored black dress she'd dug out for the occasion. She looked at ease, but Lex caught the flicker as her eyes scanned the room—always watching the exits.

"You sure Barnie's going to show?" Rose whispered, pretending to adjust her earring.

Lex smirked, sipping from the untouched champagne in his hand.

"He wouldn't miss his own party."

She glanced sideways at him.

"Funny. Neither would his security."

Lex followed her gaze to the far corner, where Trent Wolfe stood with his usual grim expression, scanning the room. Barnie's right-hand man didn't mingle. He lurked.

"He's not looking at us," Lex muttered.

Rose arched a brow.

"That's because he's waiting for you to come to him."

Lex set his glass down on a nearby table, running his fingers along the cuff of his jacket.

"Then let's not disappoint."

Barnie Maddux made his entrance the same way he always did—late enough to make people wait, but early enough to remind them who owned the room.

Lex saw him the moment he stepped in. His uncle wore the same expensive tailored coat, the same smug smile that hadn't faded in over a decade.

Barnie didn't scan the room for threats. He acted like he owned every corner of it.

Lex felt Rose's arm brush his slightly.

"That's your opening," she whispered.

Lex started forward, moving through the crowd like smoke, weaving between conversations until he stood directly in Barnie's path.

Their eyes locked.

For a brief second, Lex swore he saw something flicker behind Barnie's eyes—recognition, maybe even surprise.

Then it was gone.

Barnie smirked.

"Lex. I was beginning to think you forgot how to dress for these things."

Lex mirrored his smile, but the tension stretched razor-thin between them.

"I figured I'd stop by. I wasn't sure if I'd get another invitation."

Barnie chuckled, waving off a waiter who tried to refill his glass.

"You're bold, I'll give you that."

Lex took a step closer, lowering his voice just enough that only Barnie could hear.

"Bold is surviving the last hit you sent to my door."

Barnie's smirk barely shifted, but Lex saw the flicker in his eyes—the brief acknowledgment that they both knew exactly what Lex was talking about.

"Come now, Lex. You can't hold me responsible for every thug in the city."

Lex leaned in, his smile thinning.

"They weren't just thugs, Barnie. They were yours."

Barnie's eyes narrowed, though the smile remained plastered on his face.

"And yet, here you are. Still standing."

Lex stepped back slightly, adjusting the cuff of his jacket as he nodded toward the center of the room.

"I am. But I doubt everyone else in this room will be once I start talking."

Barnie's smirk faded for the first time that night.

Lex saw it—the crack beneath the surface.

But Barnie recovered quickly, eyes cold as steel. His uncle still had the experience and connections to put Lex in a lot of trouble. It was the same event over and over but this time Lex was going to bluff his way to success.

"You want to pick this fight in front of an audience?"

Lex's gaze swept the room, watching the way Trent edged closer.

"I'm not the one who brought the fight to your front door, Barnie. I'm just finishing it."

Barnie's hand twitched at his side, just enough for Lex to notice.

Rose appeared at Lex's elbow, a glass of champagne in her hand, smiling as if she were part of the conversation the whole time.

Barnie's eyes flicked to her, and his smirk returned.

"Ah, Rose. I should've known you'd still be following him around."

Rose's smile didn't reach her eyes.

"Someone has to keep him out of trouble."

Barnie chuckled, but Lex noticed the way his fingers tightened around his glass.

"You know, Lex, it's a shame. I always thought you'd make something of yourself if you learned how to stay out of my way."

Lex's smirk sharpened.

"I did. That's why I'm still standing in yours."

Barnie held his gaze for a long, tense moment before turning to Trent with a slight nod.

"Keep an eye on him. Make sure he enjoys the party."

Trent's stare was colder than Barnie's, but he didn't speak.

Lex didn't look away until Barnie disappeared into the crowd.

Rose exhaled softly beside him.

"That was cute. Now what?"

Lex glanced toward the exit, watching Trent take up his position by the door.

"Now we wait for him to make the next mistake."

Rose frowned, sipping her drink.

"And if he doesn't?"

Lex's eyes darkened.

The air in the ballroom felt thinner. Maybe it was the weight of the conversation—or the way Barnie lingered before vanishing into the crowd.

Lex could feel it—the room shift.

Rose stood by his side, pretending to sip from the glass she hadn't touched in ten minutes. Her gaze followed Trent across the room, reading his body language the way a predator tracks prey.

"Trent hasn't looked away from you since Barnie left," Rose whispered, brushing her arm against Lex's like she was fixing his cuff.

Lex smirked faintly.

"Let him watch."

Rose's voice dipped lower.

"Watching isn't the problem. Waiting is."

Lex's eyes flicked toward the far corner of the room, where two of Barnie's men were stationed near the exit. They weren't security. Lex recognized them from the alley two nights ago—the same men who'd been parked near his building for weeks.

Lex's grip tightened on the edge of the champagne glass.

"They're not waiting for me to leave," Lex muttered.

Rose's brow furrowed.

"Then why are they still here?"

Lex met her gaze, his smirk fading.

"Because they're making sure I don't."

Ten minutes later, Lex slipped away from the main floor, hands tucked in his coat pockets as he moved toward the elevators.

Rose trailed behind him, heels clicking faintly against the marble.

"Leaving early?" she asked quietly, brushing past him just enough to block Trent's line of sight for a moment.

Lex exhaled softly, hitting the elevator button with his knuckle.

"Barnie wanted me here. I figure I'll leave before he gets whatever he's waiting for."

Rose's eyes narrowed faintly, scanning the hall behind them.

The elevator doors slid open.

Lex stepped inside, but Rose didn't follow.

"You're staying?" Lex asked, watching her carefully.

Rose leaned against the wall beside the elevator, arms crossed.

"I'll hang back. Keep eyes on Trent."

Lex hesitated for a second longer than he should have.

Something about this felt off. Barnie wouldn't be this sloppy.

The doors began to close, and Rose caught them with her hand, locking eyes with him one last time.

"Watch your back, Lex."

Lex smirked faintly.

"Always do."

The doors slid shut.

Penthouse – 47th Floor

The penthouse was dark when Lex stepped inside.

No lights. No sound.

But it wasn't empty.

Lex felt it before he saw him.

Barnie was waiting, seated casually on the couch near the floor-to-ceiling window, his reflection barely visible against the glass.

Lex didn't speak right away. He crossed the room slowly, stopping just short of the counter, letting the door swing shut behind him.

"If you wanted to have drinks at my place, Barnie, you should've called ahead."

Barnie's smirk reflected faintly in the glass, though he didn't turn around.

"I figured you'd appreciate the surprise."

Lex's fingers brushed against the edge of the marble counter, where his pistol rested—exactly where he left it.

But Barnie wasn't here to talk.

Lex could see it now—the slight gleam of the gun resting in Barnie's lap, his grip loose but deliberate.

"You never were the type to let things go, Lex," Barnie said quietly, tapping his fingers on the armrest. "That's what I liked about you."

Lex's gaze stayed fixed on him, calm and unreadable.

"Is that why you killed him?" Lex's voice was flat.

Barnie's eyes finally shifted, meeting Lex's reflection in the glass.

"Your father wasn't built for this life. You know that."

Lex's hand curled around the edge of the counter, tension knotting in his jaw.

"He could've walked away."

Barnie chuckled softly.

"He tried. But it's not that simple. You don't walk away from power. You don't leave the table until someone takes your seat."

Lex exhaled slowly, his pulse steady.

"And now it's my seat."

Barnie's smirk widened.

"Not for long."

The silence stretched.

Lex didn't look away when Barnie finally stood, the gun in his hand rising just enough to break the tension.

Lex didn't reach for his own. He wouldn't make it in time.

He knew this moment was inevitable. Barnie never left loose ends.

But Lex wasn't afraid.

Not anymore.

The gunshot cracked through the penthouse like lightning.

Lex's body hit the marble with a dull thud, the warmth of the blood pooling beneath him spreading slowly across the floor.

Barnie watched him for a long moment, stepping forward until he towered over Lex's fading gaze.

"See, Lex?" Barnie's voice was soft, almost regretful. "You never understood when to quit. And you took little beauty down with you that poor loyal maid."

The world blurred, the edges of the penthouse flickering as Lex's breathing slowed.

His pulse faded.

Regretting what could have been as darkness swallowed him whole.