Sitting on Good News

Lex leaned back in his father's worn leather chair. The weight of it, the history woven into its seams, made the silence in the room feel heavier. The scent of old books and aged bourbon still clung to the air, a quiet reminder of the past.

Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, Manhattan hummed faintly, the skyline stretching in front of him like a chessboard. The city never slept, never stopped moving.

And neither did Lex.

His laptop screen cast a cool glow across the desk, illuminating financial reports, notes, and maps of Maddox Holdings' real estate ventures. Barnie's fingerprints were all over them—his arrogance etched into every overleveraged deal and doomed investment.

Lex's fingers moved deliberately across the keyboard, checking his growing short positions. The market's cracks were widening.

Barnie didn't see it yet.

He was still buying, doubling down as if momentum could outweigh common sense.

But when the collapse came, it wouldn't just be a loss.

It would be a reckoning.

A sharp buzz cut through the quiet.

Lex answered immediately. "Tell me you've got good news."

Elias chuckled lightly through the line. "Four updates. You'll like this."

Lex leaned forward slightly, intrigued. "Start with the easiest one."

"Cross finally closed on the penthouse sale," Elias began. "Funds were wired into the account this morning."

Lex twirled a pen between his fingers. "Took him long enough."

"He also sent a gift," Elias added, a trace of amusement in his voice.

Lex raised a brow. "A gift?"

"A Steinway grand," Elias said. "Signed by someone apparently important in the music world."

Lex let out a low chuckle. "Cross and his expensive tastes. I'll take it."

"Figured you wouldn't complain," Elias replied smoothly. "Second update—your catalog licensing deal closed. Four songs. $3.1 million."

Lex's eyes flicked to his laptop screen, watching the updated account balance glow.

$11.9 million.

It was moving faster than expected.

"Third?" Lex prompted, leaning forward slightly.

There was a pause. A rare one. Elias never hesitated without a reason.

Lex's smirk faded slightly. "Talk to me, Elias."

"The trust loan has been approved and transferred," Elias said smoothly. "Twenty million has been moved to Latham Ventures."

Lex's brow lifted slightly.

Elias continued, "With the $11.9 million from your recent deals, that brings you to just over thirty-two million in liquid assets."

Lex exhaled slowly, mentally recalibrating.

$32 million.

It was more than enough.

More than enough to launch Latham Ventures properly—to invest, acquire, and expand.

Startups. Media. Film. Music.

He could own entire projects, not just fund them.

No more half-measures.

Lex's fingers drummed against the desk, already slotting the numbers into his larger strategy.

"That's a lot of dry powder," Lex mused. "Let's put it to work."

"I figured you'd say that," Elias said dryly. "Just don't burn through it too fast."

Lex smirked. "You underestimate me, Elias."

"No," Elias corrected. "I don't. That's what worries me."

"And the fourth update?" Lex asked, though he already knew it was about Barnie.

Elias's tone shifted. Colder. Heavier.

"Barnie is overleveraging Maddox Holdings," Elias said. "Throwing money at acquisitions, overextending. And he's tying the trust's assets to his reckless plays."

Lex's jaw tightened slightly. "How bad?"

"If one of these deals collapses—and it will—he's going to take a massive hit. If two fall apart, he won't recover."

Lex sat back, staring at the faint reflection of himself in the window.

This was it. The moment the cracks became fractures.

Barnie was betting on momentum.

But momentum was a cruel god. It carried you—until it didn't.

"How do we stop him?" Lex asked.

Elias's answer was immediate. "We don't. We let him sink himself."

Lex arched a brow.

Elias continued, voice precise. "Barnie is still CEO. If we try to move too early, he'll spin it against us. But if we let him dig his own grave? The board won't hesitate to act."

"And when that happens?" Lex asked, already knowing the answer.

Elias's voice was steady.

"We make you CEO."

Silence.

Lex let the words settle.

Make you CEO.

Elias continued. "The trust clause gives us the power to remove him if his actions pose a direct risk to the company's stability. Once we invoke it, the board will need a replacement. And by then, you'll have the numbers to prove you're the only option."

Lex smirked faintly. "The only problem is that I'm seventeen."

Elias didn't hesitate. "You'll be eighteen soon enough. And by then, you'll have built a reputation strong enough that they won't care about your age—only your results."

Lex leaned forward, fingers steepled.

"You're sure the board will back me?"

"They will," Elias said. "You're not just another heir, Lex. You've doubled your capital in under a month. By the time this plays out, you'll have tripled it. When the choice is between you and a man actively burning their company down, they'll choose you."

Lex's smirk widened slightly. "And Barnie?"

Elias's voice was unreadable. "Barnie won't have a choice."

THE FINAL MOVE

Lex let out a slow breath.

$32 million.

The trust in his hands.

The CEO seat in his future.

This wasn't just Barnie's downfall.

This was Lex's ascension.

And when the time came?

Lex wouldn't just be there to pick up the pieces.

He'd be the one pulling the rope.