The Buyer

Lex stepped out of the Maddox Holdings building into the cool afternoon air. The city hummed around him, taxis blaring in the distance and pedestrians weaving through the crowded sidewalks.

His phone buzzed in his pocket.

Elias.

Lex answered immediately, crossing the street toward a quiet corner near a café.

"Hello, you've got news?" Lex said as he ducked into the shade beneath an awning.

Elias's voice was calm, but there was a rare flicker of satisfaction in his tone.

"We have a buyer," Elias said. "And they're serious."

Lex's brow lifted slightly. That was fast.

"Who is it?" Lex asked.

There was a brief pause, followed by the faint rustling of papers.

"Not your typical hedge fund type," Elias said with a hint of amusement. "A musician. Someone looking for something a little… extravagant. Apparently, the penthouse's view sold him before he even set foot inside."

Lex chuckled softly. "I guess I can't blame him."

The penthouse had always been impressive—floor-to-ceiling windows, a rooftop terrace overlooking the skyline, and enough marble to make a Roman emperor jealous. It was exactly the kind of property someone with new money would buy to feel like they'd arrived.

"Name?" Lex asked, leaning against the wall as he watched the street.

Elias hesitated for a moment, and Lex could almost hear the faint smile in his voice.

"Nathan Cross."

Lex's head tilted slightly.

"Nathan Cross? As in the guy who won three Grammys last year?"

"The same," Elias replied. "Apparently, his label just restructured his deal. He's cash-flush and looking to upgrade."

Lex exhaled, tapping his fingers lightly against his phone. Nathan Cross was one of those overnight sensations who wasn't going away anytime soon—pop, a little R&B, and just enough controversy to keep him relevant.

"I didn't think he was the penthouse type," Lex mused.

"Well, when you have millions sitting around, people start buying things just to see how they feel," Elias said. "He'll be touring most of the year, but he wants a place to crash when he's in the city."

Lex smirked. That worked in his favor. Less wear and tear.

"What's the offer?" Lex asked, already calculating in his head.

"Eight-point-eight million. As-is. Furniture included," Elias said evenly, letting the number hang between them.

Lex stilled. The offer was just under market value, but it wasn't worth haggling. He'd learned from the 2008 crash in his first timeline—taking money off the table before the market dipped was the smartest move he could make.

"It closes in thirty days," Elias continued, his lawyer voice kicking in now. "Cross wants it done fast. No contingencies, no delays. He's offering to pay a penalty if he can't close on time."

Lex arched a brow at that. A penalty? Cross wasn't playing around.

"Penalty?" Lex repeated, his tone mild but interested.

"Half a million to keep it clean," Elias said. "It's not standard, but he's desperate to lock it down. Probably wants it in his name before the tabloids start sniffing around."

Lex let out a soft breath, tapping his fingers against his phone. "He's offering to lose half a million just for peace of mind?"

"That's pop star logic for you," Elias replied dryly.

Lex smirked. It was messy, but it worked in his favor.

"Fine," Lex said after a beat. "Accept the offer and send me the paperwork. I'll sign tonight."

Elias paused briefly, then said, "Are you sure? I could counter."

Lex shook his head, even though Elias couldn't see it. "No counters. Eight-eight's fine. The market's not exactly stable right now, and Cross is giving me exactly what I need—a quick close."

"Fair enough," Elias said. There was a rare note of approval in his voice. "I'll get the ball rolling. You'll have everything by seven."

"Thanks, Elias," Lex said, his voice softer now. "For moving fast on this."

Elias's tone shifted slightly—less lawyer, more human. "Your father trusted me to handle the big things, Lex. I'm just keeping my word."

Lex leaned against the wall, watching a steady stream of yellow cabs blur past. The mention of his father hung between them like a ghost.

"I know," Lex said quietly. "I appreciate it."

Elias ended the call, leaving Lex standing there, phone still in hand.

The penthouse wasn't just real estate. It was a relic of another life—one Lex had no intention of revisiting. Selling it wasn't about the money. It was about freedom.

With Nathan Cross in the picture, the deal was moving faster than he'd expected. In thirty days, the penthouse would belong to someone else.

Barnie would notice, eventually.

But by then, Lex would be three moves ahead owning the board.