The Maddox Holdings intern floor was a world away from the glass offices and power meetings across the hall. Here, the desks were cramped, the fluorescent lights buzzed faintly, and the scent of cheap office coffee lingered in the air.
And Lex Latham?
He was playing the role of a responsible intern after skipping work for two days in a row.
Drinking bad coffee, dressed in his usual effortless, slightly rumpled elegance, Lex sat at his small cubicle, carefully reviewing an annual report.
His fingers scrolled lazily through the financials, half-skimming, half-processing.
It was busywork—the kind Barnie assigned just to keep him occupied. Tedious. Predictable.
But Lex was patient.
He knew how to play the long game.
And just as he was about to mark another section for revision—
His phone buzzed.
Lex glanced down at the screen, his smirk forming before he even answered.
Benny C.
Lex leaned back in his chair, spinning slightly as he picked up. "Tell me you're calling because you owe me drinks."
Benny's laugh was loud, unrestrained, and brimming with barely-contained energy."Drinks? Forget drinks, Lex. You're about to buy out the whole bar."
Lex raised an eyebrow, sitting up slightly."That good?"
"Better." Benny practically burst through the phone."Silent Crossings is killing it. Like, absolutely blowing up. Every festival screening? Sold out. The critics? They're eating it up. Oscar and Ana? People are already calling them the next golden duo. It's a hit, Lex. Like, hit hit."
Lex tapped his fingers against the desk, his smirk widening."What about the numbers?"
Benny let out a sharp exhale, like he'd been waiting for that question. "Glad you asked. The pre-distribution deal locked in seven figures—seven figures, Lex. That's just the start. Hallmark's sniffing around for the cable rights, Hulu wants it for streaming, and Netflix is officially circling. You know what that means, right?"
Lex tilted his head, already calculating. "We've got a bidding war?"
"Damn right we do!" Benny practically shouted. "Hulu's got the early edge, but Netflix could drop a bigger bag just to steal the spotlight. And don't sleep on Hallmark—they've got deep pockets for this kind of thing."
Lex chuckled, enjoying Benny's enthusiasm."Alright, break it down for me. What's the projection?"
"Okay, listen up." Benny's voice was laced with pure adrenaline."We've got two numbers to keep in mind. First: The safe bet—seven figures, no problem, between the streaming deal and a limited release. But…" Benny paused for dramatic effect.
Lex already knew what was coming. "But if we push it?"
"If we lock in a streaming giant and throw in DVD sales, we're talking eight figures by next quarter."
Lex whistled softly, letting the numbers sink in.
Silent Crossings had been a calculated risk.
A small film.Fifty-five minutes. Seven people behind the camera, including Benny and Mikey. A script that was tight, simple, but effective.
And now?
It was a monster.
"How soon until the money clears?" Lex asked, already mentally organizing how he'd reinvest the return.
"Three months, give or take," Benny said. "After backend fees, marketing cuts—you're still looking at a fat payday."
Lex leaned forward, a satisfied smile creeping across his face."Not bad for a first swing, huh?"
"Not bad?" Benny laughed. "You just knocked it out of the park, man. You've got exec producer credits now, which means people are gonna start blowing up your phone. You're officially that guy."
Lex's smirk didn't fade. "Good. Let them. I've got room for more projects."
"Oh, I bet you do," Benny teased. "Careful, Latham. Keep this up, and you're gonna be the next big Hollywood name. Maybe Netflix's new golden boy."
Lex chuckled softly, running a hand through his hair.
"What about the reviews?"
Benny's tone shifted. That rare, serious edge settling in.
"They're calling it a masterpiece."
Lex's fingers stilled against his desk. "Masterpiece?"
"Variety said it's the 'indie thriller of the year.' Even The Hollywood Reporter is raving about the tension between Oscar and Ana. They're saying it's award-worthy."
Lex's brow lifted. "Award-worthy?"
Benny didn't hesitate."Yeah, like actual awards. Golden Globes. Maybe even an Oscar nod if the right people watch it. This thing has legs, Lex. Long ones."
Awards buzz meant more than money.
It meant reputation.
And reputation?
That was leverage.
Lex exhaled slowly, already planning."Alright. When's the next screening?"
"Next week in Chicago," Benny replied. "You coming?"
Lex spun his pen between his fingers, pretending to consider. "I'll think about it."
It was lingo for no. I got too much to do.
"You've got this handled, though, right?"
Benny let out a mock gasp."Handled? Lex, I'm juggling a masterpiece over here! I'm doing screenings, managing bids, dodging emails from every indie producer who suddenly thinks I care about their half-baked horror flicks. This producing thing is more complicated than you think, Master Latham. You owe me at least two bottles of something expensive after this."
Lex laughed, shaking his head. "You'll survive. Just keep things moving."
"Moving?" Benny let out a low chuckle."Lex, at this rate, we'll be sipping champagne at Sundance next year."
When Benny hung up, Lex leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling as he processed the call.
Three months.
Ninety days until the money hit his accounts.
And when it did?
It wouldn't just be a payout.
It would bring legitimacy.
The kind that turned whispers into offers.
Silent Crossings wasn't just a win.
It was proof.
Barnie Maddox wouldn't notice yet. He was too busy building glass towers, measuring success by stock prices and square footage.
But when Barnie finally did notice?
Lex would already be at the top—
Making the board his.