Lex moved silently through the empty brownstone, carrying the letters and documents toward his office.
The house was too quiet now.Empty.
His footsteps echoed against the polished floors, each step drawing out the weight of something he had spent years refusing to look at.
Regret.
So much of it.
His fingers brushed against the door of the tea room. Grandma had always said he was great. He never picked up a brush again.
Not in his first life. Not after grief swallowed his hands whole.
He passed the grand piano in the sitting room, untouched. Lex had never played again—not when regret made every note, every sound, feel like a wound.
And then—the office.
The place where he had spent years rebuilding, scheming, planning. Where he had charted a path that led straight to power, to revenge, to making sure no one ever held the noose around his neck again.
The stock market had been his battlefield. His weapon. His kingdom.
And when Barnie had dragged him to ruin in the first life, when the trial had branded him guilty before he had a chance to fight—he never went back.
Not because he wasn't capable.
But because shame was the one weight he couldn't trade away. Only regret and bitterness stayed with him.
Lex set the documents down on the desk, his fingers resting lightly over the final letter.
Bernard Maddox had wondered—what would happen next?
But for the first time, Lex wondered something else.
Had it really been Barnie?
Or had someone else been pulling the strings all along?
His smirk was slow, bitter as he pour himself a drink.
And then—the knock at the door.
Lex didn't move immediately. He just tilted the glass slightly, watching the way the amber liquid shifted.
Another knock. Sharper this time.
Lex exhaled through his nose, smirking faintly. And walk to opened the door, Elias Marr stood on the other side.
His coat was slightly damp from the cold, his sharp gaze flicking over Lex like he was already taking stock of the situation.
"Drinking already?" Elias asked dryly, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.
Lex swirled the whiskey in his glass, smirking."You sound surprised."
Elias shut the door behind him, exhaling as he glanced toward the desk—toward the stack of letters, the old documents, the will that should have changed everything.
His expression didn't shift, but Lex caught it—the slight tightening of his jaw.
He hadn't known.
Lex raised his glass slightly. "Congratulations, Elias. Looks like we've both been played."
Elias's gaze finally settled on him, sharp and unreadable.
"Tell me everything."
Lex tilted his head slightly, watching Elias with faint amusement. "Everything?"
Elias didn't blink. "Everything."
Lex exhaled slowly, swirling the last of his whiskey before setting it down. "Fine. I lived. I died. And now I'm here, back at seventeen, making different choices."
Elias's expression didn't change. "Define 'lived.'"
Lex smirked. "Thirty-three years old. Hedge fund manager. Ruined. Killed."
Elias took that in, his fingers still resting against his glass."Define 'killed.'"
Lex's smirk didn't falter."A bullet. Cold pavement. A very final ending."
Elias exhaled through his nose, eyes narrowing slightly."And yet, here you are."
Lex leaned back. "That's the interesting part, isn't it?"
Elias hummed. "Let's test that."
Lex chuckled. "By all means."
Elias steepled his fingers. "If you lived to thirty-three, then tell me—who was the president in your time?"
Lex smirked. "You want public knowledge? Fine. 2008, Obama. 2016, Trump. 2020, Biden. 2024—well, wouldn't you like to know?"
Elias didn't react. "Financial markets. Major collapses?"
Lex stretched lazily. "2008, the subprime. 2010, the flash crash. 2011, the Eurozone crisis. 2020—well, let's just say no one saw that one coming."
Elias tapped his fingers against the desk. "Personal details. Thinks people know. Who did you work with?"
Lex's smirk dimmed slightly, just enough to be deliberate."You're asking if I can name people you knew."
Elias's eyes were sharp, testing."Can you?"
Lex exhaled, then said—calmly, without hesitation—"Your wife's name was Isabel. She died when I was twelve. You still keep her old letters in the top right drawer of your office."
Elias's fingers stilled.
A long silence stretched between them.
Then—quiet, careful."Who else knows that?"
Lex's voice was smooth, certain. "Just you. And now me."
Elias's gaze didn't waver.
He leaned back slightly, but Lex could see it now—the shift. The careful, methodical acceptance of something impossible.
Lex smirked. "Satisfied?"
Elias leaned forward slightly, his lawyer's instinct taking full control now."I need more details. Start with you."
Lex smirked faintly. "I graduated."
Elias narrowed his eyes."That's not an answer."
Lex exhaled, leaning back. "Fine. Columbia, finance and economics. Graduated early. Straight into Wall Street, hedge fund game by my mid-twenties. At my peak? I was managing over ten billion in assets. Wealth successful."
Elias hummed, absorbing that. "And after the crash?"
Lex's fingers drummed lazily against the desk. "I survived—for a while. Rebuilt, adapted. But I was always two steps behind. Then Barnie threw me to the wolves." His smirk dimmed. "And they ate."
Elias's gaze sharpened. "And Rose?"
Lex's breath hitched. Just barely.
But Elias caught it.
Lex exhaled through his nose. "The same."
Elias arched a brow. "Define 'the same.'"
Lex's smirk was hollow. "She made it. Barely."
Elias didn't push—not yet. He just nodded, filing that information away.
Then, he shifted.
"Dominic Dante."
Lex's expression changed.
Something sharper. Respectful.
"The lawyer I brought in for Barnie's case."
Elias nodded once. "Tell me about him."
Lex smirked faintly. "A fighter. One of the best choices. Sharp, relentless. The kind of man you hire when you know the law isn't on your side, but you plan to win anyway."
Elias hummed. "And he was loyal?"
Lex's smirk widened slightly. "To the fight. To the truth."
His gaze flickered. "Not necessarily to me. Not that I was likeable much."
Elias absorbed that, fingers tapping against the desk. "I assume Barnie burned him too."
Lex exhaled, a slow, measured breath."Barnie burned everyone."
Elias nodded once, storing that away before moving to the next, most critical question.
"And me?"
Lex stilled.
His smirk faded completely.
Elias watched him carefully. Waiting for a real answer.
Lex inhaled slowly."You fight for me."
Elias didn't move. Didn't react.
Lex tilted his head slightly, voice quieter now."You were the only one who did."
Elias's fingers tightened slightly against the desk. Not from surprise. From something colder.
Lex continued, his voice smooth but edged with something unreadable.
"And you lost."
Silence.
Elias exhaled through his nose, voice measured, calm."How?"
Lex's fingers tapped once against the desk."The board shut you out. His team buried you in technicalities. Turned the law against you."
Elias didn't flinch. Didn't even blink.
Lex continued, smooth, deliberate."Then things went dark."
A pause. Too long.
Then—quietly, simply—
"You were found in a ditch. Not far from Maddox Estate. Another accident."
Bitter silence.
Elias's fingers curled slightly against the edge of the desk, but his expression remained perfectly, ruthlessly neutral.
Lex watched him. Waited.
Elias finally spoke, his voice cold."Define 'found.'"
Lex smirked faintly. "Not dead."
Elias didn't look amused. "But meant to be."
Lex exhaled, leaning back. "It was a warning. A message. To every lawyer, every ally who might've stood with me after you." His smirk faded. "No one did."
Elias was silent. Not unreadable—no, Lex knew that silence.
It was calculation. Not of what had happened. But of what would happen next.
Lex tilted his head, watching him carefully. "Still infuriated?"
Elias finally moved—reaching for his whiskey, taking a slow sip.
Lex exhaled, setting his glass aside. "There's more."
Elias didn't speak. He just waited.
Lex tapped his fingers once against the desk, gaze unreadable. "Your daughter—she came."
Elias's expression didn't change, but Lex caught it—the slightest tension in his jaw.
"It was messy."
Silence.
Lex leaned back slightly.
"She was in Chicago then. Still a doctor. She arrived as soon as she heard. But by the time she got to you…" He exhaled. "The damage was already done."
Elias didn't react. Not externally.
Lex tilted his head, watching him carefully. "Your son didn't."
Elias finally moved—just slightly."Explain."
Lex's smirk was cold. "He had a three-year-old at the time. Single Dad. Didn't dare to come visit. Didn't want to bring trouble to his doorstep. I don't blame him."
Elias let out a slow breath, rolling his glass between his fingers. He didn't ask what happened after. He didn't need to.
Lex let the silence sit between them, watching Elias absorb the truth.
Then—soft, measured—
"Do you regret it?"
Elias exhaled through his nose, his voice quiet, but sharp as a blade.
"No."
A pause.
Then, he reached for the will—the real one—and set it directly in front of him.
"Now tell me how we fix this."
Lex smirked faintly, but there was no amusement in it. Just calculation. It was nice to be able to talk about his plans to someone.