Maddox Offer

Lex's Supra cut through the traffic of Manhattan. The low growl of the engine barely audible over the city's ever-present hum. Unlike Queens, where Margot had carved out her space away from the family name, Charlotte Maddox had never strayed far from the world she was born into.

Her penthouse on Billionaire's Row was a statement—gleaming floor-to-ceiling windows, priceless art on the walls, and a doorman who definitely recognized Lex but still took his time before buzzing him up.

The elevator opened into the penthouse's private entrance, where a housekeeper in designer flats gave him a once-over before disappearing into the hallway.

Charlotte was in the sitting room, white silk robe, a crystal flute of champagne dangling from one manicured hand. The flick of her platinum blonde hair was more art than movement, and her lips—painted the color of expensive wine—curved into a look of mild surprise, though it was clear that she wasn't exactly thrilled to see him.

"Lexington," she drawled, glancing at him over the rim of her glass. "How delightfully unexpected. What brings you to my little corner of the world?"

Lex smirked, stepping inside. "You know why I'm here."

Charlotte's perfectly arched brows lifted just slightly, amusement flickering across her face. "Do I?"

Lex didn't sit. Just slipped a folder from inside his coat and placed it on the glass table between them. "Barnie's been helping himself to the trust's art collection. Ten Warhols, including pieces from the Marilyn Monroe series. Three original Picassos. Used them as collateral."

Charlotte stilled, though her expression barely shifted. "Well. That's... bold of him."

Lex folded his arms. "That's illegal."

A slow sip of champagne. "That too."

Lex watched her carefully. Unlike Margot, Charlotte wasn't reacting with shock—just mild annoyance, like Barnie had embarrassed the family at a dinner party instead of committing financial fraud.

"You've got two options," Lex said smoothly. "Take my offer—$150,000 for your stake in the Maddox gallery Trust—or keep your shares and co-sign to press charges against Barnie. And trust me, the press is going to be all over this lawsuit."

Charlotte's lips quirked up, a humorless smile that suggested she wasn't easily rattled. "You're quite confident, aren't you?"

"I could take this all to the press. Let the world know about Barnie's crime spree, stolen art, and the reckless gamble with your at the center." Lex leaned in slightly, voice lowering. "It's your choice, but remember—Vanessa Carlisle. Barnie's ex-wife number three, and she'd love to help me make sure the Maddox name goes up in flames."

Charlotte's eyes narrowed, but her response was slow.

"Charlotte, we're talking about a man who's stolen from his own family." Lex smiled, his voice dripping with charm, but it was the kind of smile that made people wonder if they were being led into a trap. "I don't want him around any of my money and neither do you. Not this Barnie."

Charlotte finally set down her glass, exhaling. "You do have a talent for ruining my evenings, don't you?"

Lex smirked. "It's a gift."

Charlotte stood, crossing the room to a sleek sideboard where a bottle of chilled Veuve Clicquot sat waiting. She refilled her glass, considering.

"You're offering more than the clause requires," she noted.

Lex shrugged. "Adjusted for inflation."

A dry chuckle. "How generous."

Lex stepped closer, voice steady. "You're not losing anything, Aunt Charlotte. The gallery barely pays out—five thousand a month, maybe. That's covered in the payout. And I'll add a clause—you still get to use the space for your parties. One month's notice, insurance, the usual."

Charlotte tilted her head, swirling her champagne. "Let me get this straight. You're buying me out but letting me keep my social access?"

Lex's smirk widened. "Consider it a courtesy. You get to keep your reputation clean, and still host your little soirées without being tangled in Barnie's mess."

Charlotte tapped a manicured nail against the glass, watching him. Then, after a long pause, she sighed. "He really did take the Picassos?"

"Yeah."

"And the Warhols?"

Lex nodded.

Charlotte sighed again, longer this time. "That idiot. He always did think rules were just... suggestions."

Lex slid the contract toward her. "I have confirmation from Roman. He borrow Peter to pay Paul. It'll be fun. I do need to ask if you really want to sue your brother?"

Charlotte hesitated, lips pressing together. Then, with an almost bored flick of her wrist, she picked up the pen.

"You really are your father's son," she murmured as she signed.

Lex's smirk didn't waver. "And you're still your mother's daughter."

Charlotte handed the contract back with a perfectly polished smile.

"Enjoy your little war, Lexington. Make sure to entertain us."

Lex slipped the papers back into his coat, his work done.

Charlotte had been the easiest piece to move—not because she was weak, but because she knew when to fold. She had no loyalty to Barnie, only to her own comfort, and he had given her an easy out.

This wasn't a checkmate yet.

But Lex had just removed another knight from the board.

Barnie was running out of pieces. And soon, the only move left would be to fall.