The moment Lex stepped out of the FBI office, the cold Manhattan air hit him, biting. He had barely taken three steps before his phone buzzed in his pocket.
Benny C.
Lex smirked slightly and answered. "You sound excited."
"Excited?!" Benny's voice practically crackled through the speaker. "Lex, we fucking did it."
Lex raised an eyebrow. "Which 'it' are we talking about?"
"Ella Rose is done!" Benny practically shouted. "Editing is locked, color grading finished. We turned that bad boy from start to finish in a week. A week, Lex!"
Lex exhaled, a satisfied hum in his throat. He had known Benny would move fast, but this was another level.
"Good," Lex said, stepping onto the sidewalk as Dante trailed behind him. "Send me the final cut."
"Oh, I'll send you the cut," Benny said, barely able to contain himself. "But that ain't even the best part."
Lex's smirk deepened. "Let me guess—Netflix."
Benny let out a wild laugh. "Not just Netflix, big fucking Netflix."
Lex stopped walking. Now, they had his full attention.
"Talk to me."
Benny took a breath, then dropped the bomb.
"Eighty million."
Lex's grip on the phone tightened.
"For what?"
"Silent Crossing, Black Wall, and Ella Rose. Full streaming rights, worldwide distribution."
Lex let the number settle in his mind, his thoughts already working two steps ahead.
"They keeping the IP?" he asked.
Benny laughed. "Hell no. We keep the IP. That's whatever bullshit Elias pulled in the standard deal. Netflix just gets first-run exclusivity for the next five years."
Lex exhaled. Eighty million. That was not a small number.
"And there's more," Benny continued, voice buzzing with energy. "They want Rose to go on tour. Seven cities, full sponsorship. They fund the whole thing, pay her three million on top, plus revenue from ticket sales and streaming boosts for the album."
Lex processed quickly. The movies sold. The IP protected. And now, Rose's music career was about to take off at scale.
Smart. Very smart.
"It's in writing?" Lex asked.
"Yep. And—" Benny dragged the word out, barely containing himself. "They wanna have dinner with you."
Lex smirked. "Of course they do."
"They're calling it a 'casual discussion,' but come on, Lex. They wanna lock this in before someone else throws money at you."
Lex exhaled, already calculating. The offer was good—but Netflix wouldn't be the only ones watching. Once the deal leaked, other studios, streaming platforms, and labels would come sniffing.
That was exactly what Lex wanted.
"Set it up," Lex said. "I'll give them an hour."
"Done," Benny said, still grinning through the phone. "Oh, and one more thing."
Lex raised an eyebrow. "What?"
"They love Rose. Like, they're obsessed."
Lex's smirk deepened. "Of course they are."
Benny let out another wild laugh. "See you soon, boss."
The call ended.
Lex slid his phone back into his pocket, his expression sharp, knowing.
Dante, who had been watching the whole exchange, exhaled. "Jesus. That sounded like a lot of money."
Lex chuckled, stepping forward. "That sounded like a price."
Dante whistled low, shaking his head. "You really don't stop, do you?"
Lex smirked. One deal down. Another about to begin.
Dante, who had been watching the whole exchange, exhaled sharply. "Jesus. That sounded like a lot of money."
Lex slid his phone into his pocket, but his mind was already moving somewhere else entirely. Something about that conversation—about Netflix, the contract, the money—had triggered a thought, an old memory buried under the weight of two lifetimes.
Then it hit him.
The letter.
His father's words, written in sharp, deliberate strokes, resurfaced in his mind:
There's something you need to know. I kept a ledger—one Barnie doesn't know exists. Every deal, every falsified contract, every dollar that passed hands without going through the books—it's all there.
You'll find it in a safety deposit box at Brooklyn Trust Bank, Box 312.
Lex's hand twitched slightly, a familiar weight pressing against the inside of his jacket. The key.
It had been in his pocket for the last month, ever since he'd found it behind the second panel in his father's old office. He hadn't touched it since. Hadn't let himself think about it. Not yet.
But now?
Now, it was time.
Lex let out a slow breath, rolling his shoulders.
"Dante," he said, his voice calm, measured. "You up for playing bodyguard for an hour?"
Dante raised an eyebrow. "Bodyguard?"
Lex smirked, but there was an edge to it. "I need to make a stop. Brooklyn Trust Bank."
Dante tilted his head slightly. "And why do I get the feeling this ain't just a casual withdrawal?"
Lex didn't answer immediately. He could still hear his father's words in his head.Don't let Barnie walk away clean.
"You coming or not?" Lex asked.
Dante studied him for a second, then let out a low chuckle. "Sure. But you're buying me dinner after."
Lex's smirk widened slightly. "Done."
Dante grinned, pushing open the car door. "Alright, Latham. Let's go see what's in the box."
Lex exhaled, steadying himself.
Because whatever was inside Box 312, it wasn't just paperwork.
It was a loaded gun.
And he was about to pull the trigger.