Lex office was silent.
Elias had gone home, leaving behind contracts, calculations, and the weight of a war still waiting to be fought.
Lex sat back in his chair, whiskey glass in hand, eyes fixed on the board in front of him.
Barnie's life—mapped, dissected, exposed.
Deals. Connections. Betrayals. A tangled mess that Lex had spent weeks untangling.
But now, it wasn't just Barnie he saw.
It was the hands behind him.
The real players. The ones who had shaped Barnie's rise, ensured his survival.
And used him.
Lex took a slow sip of whiskey, the burn grounding him.
He had always known this wasn't just about revenge.
But now, staring at the names, the dates, the patterns he hadn't seen in the first life—
He understood something else.
Barnie was only the beginning.
Lex smirked to himself, tilting the glass slightly, watching the amber liquid catch the light.
They thought they had won.
They thought he was still blind.
Lex had just set his empty whiskey glass down when his phone buzzed.
He glanced at the screen.
Mom.
For a moment, he considered letting it ring.
Then—with a slow exhale—he picked up.
"Hi, mom." His voice was smooth, unreadable.
A short pause. Then, her voice—calm, measured, but carrying the quiet weight of something unspoken.
"Lexington."
Lex leaned back in his chair, gaze still flicking over the board. "Calling this late?"
"You weren't asleep."
A smirk tugged at his lips. "Fair point."
Silence.
Then, her tone sharpened slightly."Elias sent me something interesting."
Lex's fingers drummed lightly against the desk. "The will."
"Yes." A pause. "You knew?"
Lex exhaled, closing his eyes for half a second. "Not until tonight."
Another pause. Then—"And what do you plan to do with it?"
Lex opened his eyes, gaze cold and certain.
"Win."
A pause stretched between them—long, weighted.
Then, his mother exhaled, her voice softer, yet still edged with steel. "I know things, Lexington."
Lex's fingers stilled against the desk. "Do you?"
"I returned to see the mess."
Lex's eyes narrowed slightly. "Then tell me—how bad was it?"
A soft chuckle, almost bitter. "Bad enough."
She hesitated, then finally said what she had likely never told him outright.
"My father—was supposed to inherit."
Lex froze.
She continued, tone quiet but deliberate. "He died in a boating accident."
Lex's grip on the desk tightened. "An accident."
His mother hummed. "That's what the papers said."
Lex exhaled through his nose, smirking faintly. "Convenient."
Another pause. Then, she said, almost absently, "I choose to returned when you were five."
Lex's mind moved fast, piecing it together.
"Roger introduced you to great-grandfather." The realization settled, slow and sharp."Without knowing you were a Maddox."
His mother let out a quiet, almost amused sigh."He never asked for my last name."
Lex chuckled, but there was no humor in it."Classic Dad."
She didn't argue.
His mother's voice was quieter now, carrying something he had rarely heard from her—something wistful.
"I didn't know him before then." A pause. "My father had already been gone. We live in Hong Kong. I was raised there. We had no ties left to this place."
Lex leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping lightly against the desk. "And when you met him?"
A soft exhale. "He was lovely to me."
Lex glanced at the old will on his desk, the carefully written letters, the legacy his great-grandfather had tried to protect.Lovely wasn't the word most people would use for Bernard Maddox I.
But then again—most people weren't his granddaughter.
His mother's voice warmed slightly. "Your father was wonderful, too. He gave my mother a good story to tell."
Lex smirked faintly."What kind of story?"
A soft chuckle. "One where an American businessman with no sense of tradition convinced a stubborn Chinese widow that her daughter wouldn't fade away in a foreign land."
Lex let out a quiet laugh. "And did she believe him?"
His mother hummed."She liked him. She thought he was honest."
Lex's smirk faded slightly, something unreadable flickering in his expression. "He was."
A beat of silence.
Then, Lian Mei sighed."This mess, Lexington. wasn't my place to fix it."
Lex's grip on the phone tightened slightly."But you stayed."
Another pause.
Then—soft, careful—"Because of your father. And because of you."
Lex didn't speak. He just listened.
"Roger was different. He didn't belong in this world, and yet he survived it. He saw people for who they were—not for what they could offer." A short, almost amused breath. "He thought business was about creating something, not destroying."
Lex exhaled slowly."He was naïve."
His mother chuckled softly."Maybe. But he was happy."
Lex closed his eyes briefly, letting that settle.
Happy.
That was something he hadn't thought about in a long time.
"And then he was gone." Her voice was quieter now, edged with something unreadable. "And the mess got worse."
Lex opened his eyes, staring at the tangled lines on the board, the legacy his father never got to protect.
His voice, when it came, was smooth, certain.
"Then I'll fix it."
Silence stretched between them—long, heavy, knowing.
Then, Lian Mei spoke again, quieter now."Lexington… this isn't a fight you have to take."
Lex's fingers drummed lightly against the desk, eyes flicking to the board. The web of betrayals, stolen power, and names that had shaped his first life.
"No," he said evenly. "But it's mine to win."
Lex exhaled slowly, his gaze settling on the board, on the tangled mess of betrayals, stolen legacies, and old grudges that had shaped his family's fate.
Then—calm, certain—he spoke.
"I'll take care of it."
His mother was silent for a moment. Not doubtful. Not questioning. Just… waiting.
Lex leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping against the desk. "By my birthday, we should be happy. Relaxing."
His smirk was faint. "Drinking in Santorini. Or skiing in Switzerland. Whichever sounds better to you."
A soft exhale on the other end of the line. "You're ambitious."
Lex chuckled. "You knew that already."
A pause. Then, her voice softened."Lexington."
His fingers stilled.
"Don't let it consume you."
Lex's smirk didn't fade, but there was something colder behind it. "It already did once."
Another pause. Then, quietly—
"Then don't let it happen again."
Lex didn't answer immediately.
He just stared at the board—at the lines of power, at the game still waiting to be won.
Then, voice smooth, deliberate—"I won't."
This time, he would win.
And he would do it before it cost him everything.