Lex stood near the attic door, arms crossed, watching as history was carefully carried out of his house.
Jonathan, clipboard in hand, let out a long, exhausted sigh."Alright. That's almost everything."** His voice was flat, his soul clearly leaving his body after the sheer insanity of the past 48 hours.**
Lex smirked. "Almost?"
Jonathan shot him a look."I'm doing one last sweep. Just in case."** He rubbed his temple, muttering,** "Because knowing you, there's probably a lost Ming Dynasty scroll tucked in a shoebox somewhere."
Lex chuckled. "Not a bad bet."
Jonathan dragged a hand down his face before forcing himself to check one last time.
He moved through the cleared attic, checking corners, scanning the shelves, nudging open any small storage boxes that had been overlooked.
Most were empty.
Then—he hesitated.
His gaze landed on a single, dust-covered cabinet wedged behind an old dresser.
Jonathan narrowed his eyes. "…Latham."
Lex hummed. "Yes?"
Jonathan gestured toward the cabinet. "What's in there?"
Lex tilted his head slightly, then shrugged. "No idea. Haven't checked in years."
Jonathan rubbed his face, his fingers pressing against his temples like he was seconds away from an aneurysm."I swear to God, if we find one more priceless artifact in this attic—"
Lex tilted his head lazily."You're going to what? Complain harder?"
Jonathan glared but didn't dignify that with a response. Instead, he turned his attention back to the stack of old leather-bound folders inside the cabinet buried beneath the notebooks.
He pulled one out, carefully undoing the faded string that held it shut.
And froze.
Lex caught the change immediately. His smirk dimmed—just slightly."What?"
Jonathan slowly turned the document toward him.
A land deed.
Old, yellowed with age, but perfectly preserved. The name at the top—Latham.
Lex's smirk faded completely.
Jonathan flipped through the rest. Legal contracts. Financial agreements. Stock certificates from the 1920s.Historical records of Maddox Holdings dating back nearly a century.
Lex exhaled through his nose, sharp and quiet. He had expected forgotten art. Personal letters. Not… this.
Jonathan turned another page. Paused. Then, voice carefully neutral—"You're going to want to see this one."
Lex took it from his hands. Read the first few lines.
And then—his grip tightened.
Because this document?
This one had the power to burn Barnie Maddox to the ground.
Lex's fingers tightened around the aged parchment, his breath slow and measured.
The handwriting was unmistakable.
Bernard Maddox I.
His great-grandfather's final will.
And it was not the version anyone had seen before.
Jonathan, sensing the shift in the air, carefully pulled another folder from the trunk. "What does it say?"
Lex didn't answer immediately. His eyes moved across the lines, each word rewriting everything he had ever known about the Latham-Maddox estate.
It wasn't just about inheritance.
It was about control.
The Maddox Holdings Trust—now valued in the hundreds of millions—hadn't always been that large.
Because, according to this final, handwritten will—
Half of its assets had originally been willed to Lexington Maddox Latham.
Him.
Jonathan blinked. "That… that can't be right."
Lex didn't respond.
Because this was news.
Even to Elias.
Jonathan ran a hand through his hair, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten. "Wait—Marrs handled all the estate matters, right?"
Lex's voice was quiet but razor-sharp."Not Elias. His father."
Jonathan let out a low whistle. "And I'm guessing this version never made it past his desk."
Lex exhaled, his fingers pressing into the parchment. "Apparently not."
Jonathan looked over his shoulder, his eyes scanning the numbers.
The trust—the foundation of Barnie's power—had never been meant to exist in its current form.
Lex exhaled slowly, his grip tightening around the will.
This changed everything.
Without a word, he pulled out his phone and scrolled to one name.
Elias Marr.
He pressed call.
Jonathan watched him carefully, silent. For once.
The line rang once. Twice.
Then—a click.
Elias's voice came through, calm as ever."Lexington. You don't usually call this late."
Lex's smirk was sharp, but there was no humor in it. "Elias. How fast can you get to the house?"
A pause. Then, sharper now—"What happened?"
Lex's fingers drummed lightly against the parchment. "I just found my great-grandfather's final will."
Silence.
Then—a measured inhale.
"I assume you mean an unfiled version."
Lex's voice was cold and certain."I mean the real one."
Elias didn't speak for a full second.
Then, his voice, quieter. He understood.
"I'll be there in twenty minutes."
The line went dead.
Lex slowly slid the phone back into his pocket.
Then he reached for the wooden cabinet to pullout more documents. More letters.Yellowed pages. Sealed envelopes. Legal drafts with handwritten notes scrawled in the margins.
Lex's fingers skimmed over them, his expression unreadable.
Jonathan exhaled, rubbing his face. "Tell me you're not about to pull out more hidden fortunes."
Lex's smirk was faint. "Not this time."
He pulled out an old, heavy envelope, sealed with wax—his great-grandfather's crest.
Jonathan blinked. "Is that addressed to you?"
Lex turned it over. The ink was faded but clear.
To be opened by Lexington Maddox Latham upon his twenty-fifth year.
Jonathan swore softly. "You're seventeen."
Lex ran his thumb over the seal, his expression unreadable. "Yes."
Jonathan crossed his arms. "You gonna wait eight years?"
Lex smirked. "Not a chance."
He reached for a letter opener—and sliced through the wax. The wax seal broke cleanly, the parchment inside unfolding like a ghost of a past that was never meant to be buried.
Lex's eyes skimmed the words, his smirk fading into something more unreadable.
The letter was short. Almost poetic.
Jonathan leaned in, impatient."Well?"
Lex didn't answer immediately. He just read.
"Lexington,
Barnie and Barry were lost before they even realized it. One to hunger, the other to fear.
The tragedy of men like them is that they cannot build—only take.
But you, Lexington, you were meant to create. To carve something new, something lasting.
This world will try to make you choose between power and art.
It will tell you that you cannot have both.
Do not believe it.
You are more than their war.
Bernard Maddox"
Lex exhaled slowly, fingers pressing into the parchment.
Jonathan watched him carefully."That's… not a will."
Lex's gaze flicked down again, scanning the words one last time.
Barnie and Barry—both lost before they even knew it.
One to hunger. One to fear.
Slowly Lex folded the letter neatly, slipping it into his pocket. Then—he reached for the next document. Because if his great-grandfather had left him this, then there was more to find.