Colin slid a heavy black pen across the desk. "Then let’s make it official."
Rex didn’t rush. He adjusted the stack, squared the edges, and sat with the signature page before him for a beat too long, as if weighing more than just paper. Then, with a steady hand, he signed. His name cut across the page in clean strokes... measured, decisive.
Colin turned the contract toward Aren next. "And you, Mr. Aren. Director, writer... rights holder."
Aren’s fingers trembled slightly as he took the pen. The leather chair beneath him still felt too soft, too much for someone like him, but now his pulse drowned everything else out. He stared at the line where his name was supposed to go. A week ago, he’d been invisible... a kid with a script and nothing to his name but late nights and empty coffee cups. Now his signature would sit on the same document as Rex’s, carrying weight in an industry designed to crush people like him.
His eyes flicked to Rex, who sat back in his chair, watching him with calm certainty. Rex had made sure this wasn’t a sacrifice. It wasn’t charity either. It was respect... structured, contractual, undeniable respect.
He signed carefully, trying to keep his hand steady, his signature slightly uneven but firm.
When he set the pen down, Colin gathered the pages with practiced precision and tucked them into a neat leather folder. The moment felt almost ceremonial.
"That’s it, it’s all official." Colin said, voice calm but carrying a finality that settled over the room. "The contracts are binding. You have the protections, the rights, the structure. And most importantly"—he glanced at Rex—"the leverage. If a studio wants this project, they’ll have to play by your rules."
Rex leaned back at last, the hard edge of concentration easing from his shoulders. "Good." He tapped a fingertip against the folder. "This is solid work, Colin. I’ll remember it. And if I need legal muscle again, you’ll be my first call."
Colin’s lips curved into a professional smile, but there was no mistaking the faint flicker of pride behind it. "That’s all I ask, Rex. Relationships are worth more than retainers in this town."
He reached into his wallet, pulled out a black card, and slid it across the table. "Your fee. Process it now."
Colin blinked, caught off guard. "I wasn’t going to bring that up until next week. I usually invoice—"
"I don’t like carrying debts," Rex cut in, his tone calm but absolute. "Not with lawyers, not with anyone. Bill me now, we walk away clean."
Colin hesitated, then pulled out the small terminal he kept for rare occasions. As the machine beeped and the payment cleared, Rex leaned back in his chair, watching with the same scrutiny he’d given the contract itself.
"Most clients don’t read past the first page," Colin said as the receipt printed. "They just sign where I tell them. You’re the only one I’ve seen actually pick apart every single clause."
"That’s why I’ll last where others don’t," Rex replied. He tucked his card back into his wallet and stood. "A single unknown provision can bankrupt a man. Or worse, sell him whole. I don’t gamble with fine print."
Colin slid the receipt toward him, still half amused and half impressed. "Paranoid."
"Disciplined," Rex corrected, pocketing the slip. "And discipline keeps people alive."
Meanwhile, Aren sat there, still trying to process it all. The papers were signed. His name was on them. The rights to his story were secure, his role as director was locked in, and... even more staggering... Rex had built in a safety net for him, bonuses and protections no newcomer had any right to expect.
The knot in his stomach eased into something else. Gratitude. Maybe even resolve. Because if Rex had gone this far to shield him, then Aren had no excuse. He had to deliver.
When they finally stood to leave, Colin escorted them to the door himself. No junior associate, no assistant... him. That alone told Aren how unusual this meeting had been.
It wasn’t that he never escorted anyone... he had, but it was rare. Very rare. Even some of the top studio executives hadn’t gotten that kind of treatment. Colin was one of the most senior lawyers in the firm. Sure, he wasn’t a partner yet, but his prestige was already heavier than a few who carried the title. His record, his clients, his courtroom reputation... people whispered his name with more weight than many of the partners. People respected him, feared him even, and for good reason.
He was the sort of lawyer others came to for guidance, the kind who never wasted a step or gesture without purpose. Which made what happened all the more shocking.
So, seeing him step out of his office and personally guide someone through the hall was already enough to make jaws tighten. But when it turned out to be a young man? That was another level. People glanced, whispered, some even slowed their walk just to double-take.
Yeah, Rex was ridiculously handsome... the sort of handsome that made people blink and forget what they were doing... but even with that, the whole scene felt absurd.
On the way, a couple of interns carrying coffee trays slowed to a halt, blinking as though they’d stumbled into the wrong floor. Another, clutching a binder against her hip, nearly bumped into the wall because she couldn’t stop sneaking glances, her eyes wide, mouth parting in surprise. They weren’t just curious... they were stunned.
A couple of other lawyers leaned back in their chairs, subtly watching, their gazes flicking between Rex and Aren. Their expressions weren’t just curiosity... they were suspicion, calculation. They were trying to slot Rex and Aren into some category: heirs to a dynasty, sons of royalty, industry disruptors, something, anything that could explain Colin’s behavior.
At the reception desk, the young woman who had guided Rex and Aren earlier nearly dropped her pen. She looked between Colin and Rex twice, as if making sure she wasn’t hallucinating. She could count on one hand the number of times she’d seen Colin Walk someone out personally. And now, here he was, casually accompanying a young man like it was the most natural thing in the world.
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