Controlled risks

The restaurant exuded exclusivity—dim lighting, hushed voices, and the kind of atmosphere that let people make deals without leaving a paper trail.

It was one of Benny Caldwell's usual spots, a discreet Lower East Side joint where the ambitious came to strike deals or destroy rivals.

Tonight? It was all about the former.

Lex Latham sat at a corner table, one leg crossed over the other, a bourbon glass dangling effortlessly from his fingers. His posture was casual, almost indifferent—but his eyes missed nothing.

Across from him sat Carter Reyes, hunched slightly over the table, his hoodie pulled over his head like a shield. His fingers drummed nervously against his glass, untouched whiskey swirling inside.

Benny Caldwell leaned back next to Lex, his beer bottle balanced on his knee. He was in good spirits, as always, but there was a knowing look in his eye.

Because Benny already knew how this was going to go.

Carter exhaled sharply, pushing a thick folder toward Lex. "This is everything," he muttered.

Lex didn't pick it up immediately. Instead, he watched Carter.

Jittery. Anxious.

Desperate.

Lex tilted his head slightly. "How bad?"

Carter let out a short laugh. "Seventy-five percent shot, ten percent salvageable, fifteen percent lost to the abyss."

Benny whistled. "Translation: A disaster."

Carter shot him a glare. "The film is good, okay? It's—hell, it's more than good. It's mine."

Lex finally picked up the folder, flipping through the contents with calm precision.

The movie—a psychological thriller with ghost elements. It had been 80% completed before Carter's main investor pulled the plug.

Why?

Because Carter wasn't "marketable enough" to carry the risk.

Lex's lips curled faintly. "And they just walked?"

Carter ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "Pulled out last week. Claimed 'creative differences.' But really? They just got scared."

Lex tapped his fingers against the table, scanning the budget breakdown. 500K needed to finish.

Post-production, reshoots, licensing… and the music budget had been gutted.

Lex looked up. "You want half a million?"

Carter nodded. "I need half a million. We're too deep to start over, but I can't wrap without it."

Lex closed the folder.

Then, calmly—"I don't do half-measures."

Carter's brow furrowed. "What?"

Lex set the folder aside. "I don't invest in unfinished ideas. If I buy in, I buy everything."

Carter stiffened slightly. "You want full control?"

Lex smiled faintly. "I want a hundred percent buyout. Film, distribution rights, and the IP."

Carter blinked. "You—"

Benny let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "Told you, Reyes. Latham doesn't play small."

Carter's fingers curled into fists on the table. "This is my film. I built this from nothing."

Lex's tone remained calm, measured. "And I'm offering you a way to make sure it actually gets seen."

Carter's jaw tightened. "I didn't come here to sell my soul."

Lex tilted his head slightly. "No. You came here because you ran out of options."

The words hung heavy between them.

Carter looked away first.

Benny took a slow sip of his beer, watching Carter with interest. "It's not a bad deal, man. You're drowning. Lex is throwing you a damn yacht."

Carter let out a long breath, rubbing his temple. "And what do I get?"

Lex's voice remained steady. "Your name stays. Your cut stays. You get a percentage of the backend and a seat at the table for future projects. But the rights? They're mine."

Carter's eyes darkened. "You really think this is gonna make money?"

Lex smirked. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't."

Carter exhaled again, long and slow. He looked at Benny, then back at Lex. "And if I say no?"

Lex leaned back, his fingers tapping against his glass. "Then in six months, someone else buys the idea and does it without you."

Silence.

Carter looked down at his drink, swirling the amber liquid.

Then, finally—"Fine."

Lex's smirk widened. "Smart choice."

Carter signs and then Lex turned to Benny. "How fast can we finish?"

Benny scratched the back of his neck, thinking. "Two months, if we hustle. But post-production's gonna be a bitch. We need music, sound design, and a tight editor that's not me."

Lex didn't hesitate. "I want names. Now."

Benny let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "Man, you don't waste time, do you?"

Lex rested his elbows on the table, fingers steepled. "Time is the difference between a hit and another lost project. You get me the right people, and I'll get us across the finish line."

Benny exhaled through his nose, nodding. "Fine. I'll pull a list together tonight. But there's another problem—"

Lex cut him off. "The old investor."

Carter, who had been sitting in silent disbelief since agreeing to the deal, looked up sharply. "What about them?"

Lex's expression didn't shift. "I want them out."

Carter blinked. "They already pulled funding. They're out."

Lex shook his head. "Not enough. If they think they still have any creative hold, they'll make noise later."

Carter frowned. "They're not gonna just walk away."

Lex tilted his head slightly, calm, confident. "They will when I cut them back fifty percent of what they invested."

Silence.

Benny let out a low whistle. "Cold-blooded."

Lex shrugged. "It's business. They can take half and leave happy, or they can fight and leave with nothing. Either way, they're gone."

Carter stared at him. "You just threw away a quarter of a million dollars like it's spare change."

Lex smirked. "No. I just bought peace of mind."

Benny leaned back in his seat, clearly enjoying the show. "You really wanna reshape this, huh?"

Lex picked up the script from the table, flipping through the first few pages. "More than reshape. We're redoing the opening."

Carter groaned. "Lex, come on—"

Lex held up a hand. "Before you get dramatic, listen."

Carter crossed his arms but stayed quiet.

Lex's tone was smooth, final. "I'm adding two new characters. They die in the first act."

Carter narrowed his eyes. "Why?"

Lex's smirk widened. "Because if I do it right, people will care when they die."

Benny chuckled. "You mean you wanna make an impact right off the bat."

Lex nodded. "Exactly. If we hook the audience in the first fifteen minutes, they'll stay locked in."

Carter rubbed his temple, sighing. "And let me guess—you already know who's playing them."

Lex leaned back, looking entirely too pleased. "Natalie Zhang and Rose Russo."

Benny nearly choked on his beer. "You're putting Nat in this?"

Lex shrugged. "She's got a face people won't forget. And Rose? She's already got that natural presence. Both of them on-screen, even for just fifteen minutes, will set the tone."

Carter looked between them. "So, let me get this straight—you're buying the film, cutting out the old investor, reworking the entire opening, and casting two people who aren't even actors?"

Lex smiled. "See? Now you're getting it."

Benny laughed. "Man, this is either genius or complete madness."

Lex finished his bourbon, setting the empty glass down with a quiet finality. "It's both."

Lex leaned back, rolling the script between his fingers before looking at Benny. "By the way, Rose is singing the opening credits."

Carter let out a sharp breath, rubbing his temple. "And does Rose know she's doing this?"

Lex's smirk widened. "She will soon."

Benny chuckled. "Good luck with that."

Lex turned to Carter, tone all business again. "And don't stress about the music catalog. I've got that covered."

Carter frowned. "Define 'covered.'"

Lex stretched his arms, as if this was barely worth mentioning. "How much have I spent so far, Benny? A few million?"

Benny let out a low whistle. "Last I checked? It was closer to a ten thousand songs—including some very, very expensive ones."

Carter looked like he was trying to process that number. "You—" He shook his head. "Jesus, Latham. You don't play around."

Lex picked up his bourbon glass, lifting it slightly. "You knew that when you sat down."

Benny laughed, grabbing his beer. Carter sighed, shaking his head, but he was smiling now.

They clinked glasses.

"To controlled risks," Benny said, grinning.

Lex smirked. "To risks worth taking."

Carter let out a small laugh and raised his glass. "To insanity."

The deal was sealed.