Two Days Too Long

The knock at the door came softly, but Lex didn't move right away.

He sat in his father's old chair, eyes half-lidded, the faint hum of the computer screen the only thing keeping offshore accounts and connected names.

Two days. No sleep.

The board by the wall loomed over him, covered in overlapping strings of red and blue, connecting names, places, accounts—Barnie's entire life laid bare. Every marriage, every divorce, every quiet scandal buried under settlements. Every under-the-table deal with judges, politicians, corporate raiders. A roadmap of power, riddled with cracks.

Lex pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling softly as the knock came again—louder this time.

He pushed back from the desk, moving slowly toward the front door. When it opened, Rose stood there, arms crossed, wearing that look—the one that always caught him out.

Her gaze flicked over him, narrowing slightly.

"You look like hell."

Lex smirked faintly, leaning against the doorframe. "Good to see you too."

Rose stepped past him without waiting for an invitation, brushing his shoulder as she crossed into the brownstone.

Lex shut the door behind her.

She glanced toward the living room, where papers were scattered across the coffee table, and the faint blue glow from the monitors in the office spilled down the hall.

"Have you slept?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

Lex dragged a hand through his hair. "I was busy."

Rose shot him a flat look. "That's not an answer."

Lex smirked but didn't argue.

She stepped closer, eyes narrowing as she studied him more carefully. There was no teasing in her voice this time.

"Lex… you're pushing too hard."

Lex exhaled slowly, dragging a hand down his face before forcing himself to stand.

In his past life, Barnie had used these connections to crush him.

This time, Lex was going to cut them off first.

Rose's gaze didn't move from his face.

"What the hell is this?"

Lex exhaled, stepping forward. "It's Barnie."

His voice was hoarse from disuse. "Everything he's built. Everyone who props him up. Every single name on this board is someone who either protects him, covers for him, or benefits from him."

Rose's brow furrowed as she took a step closer, scanning the details. Names of judges, politicians, executives—people Lex hadn't even known about in his last life until it was too late. Until they had quietly, surgically cut his throat for Barnie's benefit.

She turned back to him, arms still crossed. "And you're going after them."

Lex didn't look away. "I'm taking them off the board before he can use them against me."

A long pause. Rose didn't look at the mess—she looked at him.

"Why this, when you're living the good life?"

Lex pause he answer with the only answer she'd understand. "He checkmated dad."

Rose shook her head, stepping next to him shoulder to shoulder. She reached out, her fingers brushing against the sleeve of his shirt—a small, grounding touch.

Her gaze stayed locked on his. She could see it—the exhaustion, the weight pressing down on him.

"I can help," she said, and there was no hesitation in her voice.

Lex paused.

For half a second, the offer tempted him. Rose was sharp. She could see angles he might miss, move pieces in ways he hadn't considered. She could help him win.

But then—

Her face.

The cut on her cheek, the faint bruise along her collarbone—still healing.

Lex swallowed hard, his hand tightening at his side.

She had already paid the price one for being close to him.

He looked at her carefully, and when he finally spoke, his voice was softer but firm.

"Not this life, Rose."

Her brows pulled together slightly. "What does that mean?"

Lex turned away from her, stepping toward the desk, his fingers trailing across the wood as he moved. His jaw clenched.

"It means you don't want to be in the middle of this."

Rose didn't move.

"I'm already in the middle of it, Lex." Her voice was quiet but unwavering. "You just haven't noticed."

Lex's smirk twitched faintly, but he didn't turn around.

She wasn't wrong.

But there were things he wasn't ready to let her carry. Not yet.