Midnight Lex sat alone at his desk, sleeves rolled, collar undone, a half-melted glass of whiskey in front of him, and the wreckage of Barnie's empire displayed across every screen in the room.
This was the world he had wanted to break.
But something in the air felt wrong.
Like victory had shown up wearing someone else's face.
Lex tapped the bottom of his glass once against the desk — not out of habit, but to steady the tremor he refused to admit existed. The scent of the whiskey was sharp, smoky, grounding. He took a slow sip.
The News. Federal agents marched in and out.
Flashes popped from cameras.
People shouted about indictments and treason and legacy imploding.
Lex's jaw tightened.
He remembered this sight from the previous life — except he had been the one in freefall, the one framed, the one losing everything.
Tonight the script was different.
Tonight he held the pen.
The old study lamp flickered over his father's watch on the desk — silver, worn at the edges, ticking steady as a heartbeat he missed more than he admitted. He had placed it there before pouring the drink, as if Roger Latham deserved to watch this moment.
Lex reached for the watch, brushed his thumb across the cold metal, and—
His phone buzzed.
He ignored it.
The world was loud tonight. He wasn't ready for more noise.
It buzzed again. And again.
Lex narrowed his eyes, picked it up.
BENNY
He froze.
Benny was supposed to be boarding a flight to Denver, the next city on Rose's America tour. He and Rose were going to meet two indie directors who wanted the rights to one of Roger Latham's scripts. Benny had planned to pitch Rose as the lead.
It should've been an easy trip.
An exciting one.
Lex answered.
"Benny?"
He heard an airport in the background — the distorted announcements, rolling luggage, a woman laughing two gates over.
But Benny didn't laugh.
He didn't breathe.
He sounded like someone trying not to drown.
"Lex…" Benny's voice cracked. "Something's wrong."
Lex straightened in his chair. "Tell me."
"I'm— I'm at LAX. I just landed to meet Rose before we fly to Denver." A breath. Shaky. "She never showed."
Lex's fingers curled slowly around the edge of the desk. "Define never."
"She didn't get on her earlier flight. She didn't check in. She didn't message me. And her tour manager's acting weird — like he wants to hang up every time I ask where she is."
Lex stood, pacing toward the window even though nothing outside could help him.
"She's probably delayed," Lex said. But his voice was too even — the kind of calm that came from deep, old fear. "Or her phone died."
"No," Benny said. "No, Lex, listen—this isn't small. Rose doesn't miss things. You know her. She shows up early and pretends she's late."
Lex closed his eyes. He did know her. Too well.
"I called her mother," Benny continued, voice cracking again. "She hasn't heard from her. I called Jason — he said Rose missed rehearsal yesterday. He thought it was a scheduling mix-up."
Lex felt the room tilt.
"What else?" he asked.
Benny swallowed. Hard. "The manager handed me her itinerary for the tour. It's been changed. Edited. Meetings missing. Flights moved."
Lex's blood went cold.
"Who edited it?"
"They won't say," Benny whispered. "And the last person who saw her—some PR intern—said Rose left the building early for a 'private meeting.' But the location she gave me?" He sucked in a shaking breath. "Lex… It doesn't exist. Not the building. Not the company. Nothing."
Silence.
The kind of silence that breaks the world in half.
Lex reached for the whiskey without looking, took a long drink, then set the glass down harder than intended. The sound cracked through the study like a gunshot.
"Here's what you're going to do," Lex said, already moving. "You're going to stay with that manager keep yourself inside the loop. Send me Rose full itinerary. Every version of it."
"Lex—"
"If someone altered her schedule," he continued, "someone wanted her alone."
Benny fell deadly silent.
"And Benny," Lex added, "if anyone approaches you saying they represent her or the tour — you reschedule. Do not meet them without a team."
"Okay." Benny's voice was nearly a whisper.
The study felt colder than the city outside.
Lex grabbed his keys, wallet, passport.
The phone buzzed again.
A notification from the Maddox news feed:
BARNIE MADDOX RELEASES STATEMENT DENYING ALL CHARGES.
Lex stared at it for half a second.
Then he swiped the alert away.
Barnie wasn't the fire tonight.
Rose was.
He stepped into the street locking the door behind him.