The Weight of His Name
Lex read in silence.
Page after page.
His hands didn't shake. His face barely moved. But Muri could see it—something fracturing behind his eyes, piece by piece, like ice cracking beneath too much weight.
Every detail was laid bare.
How his father manipulated both families.
How Muri's internship had been quietly sabotaged.
How her prototype—Aurelia—had been absorbed into Cartwright Industries without her name ever appearing in the patents.
How the "accident" was no accident at all.
When he finally closed the folder, he didn't look up.
Muri stood across from him, arms wrapped tightly around herself.
"Say something," she whispered.
Lex exhaled slowly. "My father was a monster in a tailored suit."
"I didn't know either," she said. "Not until last night."
He looked at her now. Truly looked. "But your father did."
Muri nodded. "And Micah… I think he came back not to destroy us—but to expose them both."
Lex turned toward the window. His voice was low, razor-sharp. "All my life, I was told the Cartwright name stood for honor. For vision. Now I see it for what it was: a shadow built on silence."
"You can change that," she said softly.
He turned back to her. "Can I? After everything? After what my family did to you?"
"You're not him, Lex."
He stepped toward her, slow, deliberate. "Aren't I? If I keep it quiet, I become him. If I expose it, I tear everything he built apart. The company. My name. Everything I was raised to protect."
Muri met his gaze, eyes shining. "Then maybe it's time to protect something else."
Lex reached out, brushing her cheek.
"You," he whispered.
Then, for the first time, he leaned forward—not out of desire, or anger—but with purpose. He kissed her slowly, gently.
When he pulled back, his voice was steady.
"Tomorrow, I call a board meeting. I'm going to burn the lies down."