Sitting on Good News

Lex leaned back in his father's worn leather chair. The place had a gravity all its own, the kind that made silence heavier, thoughts sharper. Manhattan hummed faintly outside the thick glass windows, a muted reminder of the city's endless noise.

His laptop cast a cool glow across the desk, illuminating scattered notes, financial reports, 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 tapped a few keys, 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.

Lex's fingers moved deliberately across the keyboard, pulling up records and setting traps. Barnie wouldn't bleed this time—he'd drown.

The sharp buzz of his phone broke the quiet. 

Lex answered without hesitation, his tone steady. "What's the good news?"

"Three updates," Elias began, his voice smooth, deliberate. "First—Cross finally closed on the penthouse sale. The funds were wired into the account this morning."

Lex smirked faintly, twirling a pen between his fingers. "Took him long enough."

"He also sent a gift," Elias added, his voice carrying a hint of amusement.

"A gift?"

"A Steinway grand," Elias said. "Signed by a name I'm told is important."

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

"I figured you wouldn't complain," Elias replied before his tone shifted, losing the casual edge. "Second—your catalog licensing deal came through. Four songs for $3.1 million."

Lex's eyes flicked to his laptop screen, where the updated account balance glowed: $11.9 million. He nodded to himself, mentally slotting the funds into his larger plan.

"Good," Lex said. "And the third thing?"

There was a pause. Elias never hesitated without reason, and Lex leaned forward slightly, waiting.

"This one's big," Elias said finally, his voice carrying a weight that immediately drew Lex's full attention. "I've been tracking Barnie's moves closely. He's buying up properties like it's a fire sale, over-leveraging Maddox Holdings in ways that makes William turn in his grave."

"Sounds like Barnie," Lex said dryly.

"It's worse," Elias continued. "He's playing fast and loose with company assets, and I suspect he's borrowed heavily against the trust's shares in Maddox Holdings to secure some of these deals."

Lex's fingers tapped softly against the desk. "How exposed is the trust?"

"Not exposed yet," Elias said. "But if his moves backfire—and they will—he'll drag the trust down with him. We can't let that happen."

Lex's jaw tightened. "Then stop him."

Elias sighed, a deliberate pause that spoke volumes. "Stopping Barnie isn't that simple. He's still CEO, and without proof of misconduct, the board won't act. But…"

Lex's eyes narrowed. "But?"

"There's a clause in the trust," Elias said carefully. "Your great-grandfather put it in place to protect the family from reckless leadership. If I and the other trustees agree that Barnie's actions pose a significant risk to the trust's assets, we can invoke it to limit his power."

Lex leaned forward, his mind racing. "You're talking about removing him as CEO."

"Yes," Elias said. "But it requires a vote. And it has to be airtight—no room for doubt, no missteps. If we move too soon, Barnie will spin it as sabotage."

Lex exhaled slowly, weighing the implications. Removing Barnie would be a nuclear option, one that would destabilize Maddox Holdings in the short term. But in the long run? It was the only way to save the company—and the family legacy—from complete ruin.

"What do you need from me?" Lex asked.

"Patience," Elias said firmly. "I'm building the case, but I need time to gather the evidence. Barnie's moves are reckless, but they're not illegal—not yet. We have to catch him crossing the line."

"And if he doesn't?" Lex asked, though he already knew the answer.

"He will," Elias said confidently. "Men like Barnie always do. They think they're invincible until they overreach."

Lex sat back, staring at the faint reflection of himself in the window. "How much time are we talking?"

"Two months, maybe less," Elias said. "In the meantime, you focus on your end. Strengthen your positions. If this goes to a vote, you'll need to be ready to step in."

"Step in as what?"

"As a successor," Elias said bluntly.

The words hung in the air, heavy with implication. Barnie would fight tooth and nail to hold onto his empire, but if the board turned on him, someone would need to take control.

Lex smirked faintly. "You think the board would back me? A seventeen year old Kid?"

"You're young, but you're not a child," Elias said firmly. "You've proven yourself to me, 100% returns in less than a month. So you can prove yourself to them. Barnie's arrogance will be his undoing. You just need to be ready when the time comes."

Lex nodded slowly, the pieces of the plan falling into place in his mind. The timeline he'd mapped out—every misstep Barnie had made from 2006 to 2010—was starting to pay off.

"I'll be ready," Lex said finally.

"I'll keep you updated," Elias replied. "And Lex—don't underestimate him. He'll fight dirty if he feels cornered."

Lex's smirk widened slightly. "So will I."

Elias chuckled softly, the faint sound of rustling papers in the background. "Take care, Lex."

"You too," Lex said before ending the call.

Lex leaned back in the chair, staring out at the skyline. Barnie's downfall wasn't a matter of if, but when. And when time came, Lex wouldn't just be there to pick up the pieces—he'd be the one pulling the rope.

He opened his laptop again, pulling up his timeline of events from the first timeline. Every decision Barnie had made, every reckless gamble that had led to the family's ruin, was etched into his memory.

This time, Lex wouldn't just avoid the mistakes of the past. He'd rewrite the story piece by piece.