Lex had handled the problem quietly.

The man had been inconvenient. Too present. Too comfortable standing at her side like he belonged there. Lex hadn’t raised his voice—he never did—but the message had landed all the same. A few well-placed facts. A few implications about careers, reputations, futures that could unravel if pushed.

By the end of the conversation, the man had walked away on his own.

Smart choice.

The divorce came faster than anyone expected. Papers signed. Ring gone. Her smile brittle in public, exhausted in private. Freshly free, still bleeding around the edges, still figuring out what alone meant again.

That was when Lex appeared.

Not gloating. Not obvious. Just…there. Steady. Reliable. A glass of wine placed in her hand without comment. A car waiting when she didn’t want to be seen. Space when she needed it. Presence when she didn’t know how to ask.

Knight in shining armor was a ridiculous phrase—Lex knew that better than anyone—but he understood the role. You didn’t save someone by announcing yourself. You positioned yourself so that when they finally looked up, you were the only one left standing.

He didn’t mention the man. Didn’t mention the threats. Didn’t claim credit.

He simply offered safety, attention, and the promise of never being powerless again.

And if the timing felt a little too perfect—

Well.

Lex had never believed in coincidence.